


Coming Home

by dontbecooler



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Brainwashing, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, First Contact, Flashbacks, Identity Issues, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Rutting, Spooning, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:39:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 83,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5289296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbecooler/pseuds/dontbecooler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stood underneath the light, leaves in his hair and eyes dark. It was too warm to be wearing this, but he had nothing else. Nothing else. "You need to leave New York," he said, and his hoarse voice carried in the still night air. Disused, no accent, almost robotic. He was on edge and he wanted to run. He wanted to not be out in the open. He was so tired. "There are safe houses in Russia and Germany, I can give you the addresses to them." Multiple times his voice cracked, and his hands were fists at his sides. He needed to leave too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What yay another RP finished and ready to be edited and posted at random intervals thats CRAZY holy smokes what a doozy. Please be warned that this is an RP so any interpretations and characterizations are by the author and if you have problems with them you can go because reading fanfic is optional and yeah cool just get that warning down in advance just in case :) 
> 
> Steve was my lovely dovely friend called Ashlynn (we are now writing another RP consisting of a Ballet!AU so hold onto your hats)  
> I was Bucky
> 
> First chapter is texting like a lot of my stories, but there are a lot more chapters to be added that are paragraphs :) Thank you so much,
> 
> ENJOY XX

**You were my handler. [Unknown Number]**

Excuse me? -SR

**You were my handler. [Unknown Number]**

**Before the war. [Unknown Number]**

Who is this? I think you've got the wrong number, pal. -SR

Or is this some kind of prank? -SR

**This is Steven Grant Rogers, alias: Captain America. Born 1918 to Sarah and Joseph Rogers, correct? [Unknown Number]**

 [ _Delayed_ ] Yes? Who is this? -SR

**This is not the wrong number. [Unknown Number]**

Is this Tony? This isn't funny. -SR

**The Asset. [Unknown Number]**

The what? -SR

**The Asset. The Weapon. The Winter Soldier. [Unknown Number]**

How did you get this number? Why are you even contacting me? -SR

**Qualitative data collection is a basic skill. [Unknown Number]**

Then what do you want? You're not really gaining anything from contacting me directly. -SR

**I remember. [Unknown Number]**

Remember? -SR

**[ _Long Delay_ ] They are coming for you. [Unknown Number]**

Who's coming? What do you remember? -SR

**You need to leave New York. [Unknown Number]**

I can't just drop everything I'm doing and uproot just because an unknown number tells me too. -SR

**There are safe houses in Russia and Germany, I can give you the addresses to them. [Unknown Number]**

**You aren't doing anything. [Unknown Number]**

This is ridiculous. You don't know that. -SR

**You were making ramen. [Unknown Number]**

[ _Delayed_ ] Jesus, can you see me? -SR

**Not all the time. [Unknown Number]**

**You are in your bedroom now. I cannot see you. [Unknown Number]**

Then come out. Let me see you. -SR

**There are safe houses in Russia and Germany, I can give you the addresses to them. [Unknown Number]**

Don't give me that. I'm not going anywhere until you come out. -SR

**No. [Unknown Number]**

[ _Delayed_ ] Then I'm not going. -SR

**No. [Unknown Number]**

**They are coming for you. [Unknown Number]**

**I will make you go. [Unknown Number]**

Then make me. -SR

**[ _Long Delay_ ] They are coming to hurt you. [Unknown Number]**

**You need to leave New York. [Unknown Number]**

I'm not going to trust someone who has been staking outside my apartment. You're out there right now. -SR

For all I know, you're the one who's here to hurt me. -SR

**You would be dead if I wanted to hurt you. [Unknown Number]**

**[ _Five Minutes Later_ ] Open the front door. [Unknown Number] **

_[Long Delay (HYDRA agent on the front doorstep, throat slit with a trail of blood leading off into the bushes)]_ Don't just leave him here. I have neighbors! Just come out, I'll go, okay? -SR

I'll leave if you come out. -SR

**He was going to hurt you. [Unknown Number]**

**Now he can't. [Unknown Number]**

Please, come out. -SR

**Is that an order? [Unknown Number]**

What? -SR

**Is that an order, Sir? [Unknown Number]**

What are you talking abo- - SR

Yes? -SR

**Okay. [Unknown Number]**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the formatting is a little hard to follow xox Sorry again I'm so bad at posting at regular intervals... If you have any questions about characterization please don't hesitate to ask and I will try my very best to answer-- that includes questions about back story as well  
> Thanks guys ily ily
> 
> ENJOY XX

The phone was disposable, and he crushed it underfoot when he stepped out under the streetlight. It was just another liability, another way to be found if he wasn't careful. He could see the front door, open, the Captain's silhouette in from the inside of the house, the body of the Agent who had been alive not half an hour ago. The Asset moved stiffly, his combat gear had not been made to be lived in, and his head throbbed. His gashes were taking longer to heal, his limp wasn't getting better, neither was his shoulder. He was tired. He wanted to go back to sleep. Four months, twelve days and six hours out of cryo, he didn't get enough sleep. He didn't know how, but his body longed for it. Wanted to lie down before he collapsed on some park bench like the last times. But he had his orders.

He stood underneath the light, leaves in his hair and eyes dark. It was too warm to be wearing this, but he had nothing else. Nothing else. "You need to leave New York," he said, and his hoarse voice carried in the still night air. Disused, no accent, almost robotic. He was on edge and he wanted to run. He wanted to not be out in the open. He was so tired. "There are safe houses in Russia and Germany, I can give you the addresses to them." Multiple times his voice cracked, and his hands were fists at his sides. He needed to leave too.

Steve swallowed thickly, trying not to look down at the lifeless body on the stoop of his apartment but this situation was kind of unavoidable. How was he going to get this sorted out? He would most likely have to contact someone from SHIELD and that would lead to an investigation to undergo and just... really something he wanted to avoid right now. The front door opened, he stood in the threshold separating him from the muggy night air outside his home. He muscles tensed when he noticed something shift and move out from the dense area of trees and bushes from across the street, the figure stepping out stiffly and standing almost underneath the flickering streetlight. They looked broad, but stiff; uncomfortable in their own body. 

"Come closer." He said loud enough that he knew that he had heard him from across the distance, he tried to keep his nerves together and calm his heart beginning to pick up speed and beat erratically against his ribs. "I can't see you." His pale eyes were narrowed as if it would help him pick out the finer details of the man illuminated eerily by the lamp light. He tried to keep the authoritative tone in his voice as he spoke, but couldn't keep his breath from hitching, feeling anxious energy thrum through his veins. How was he supposed to believe this man? He had disposed of a body on his front step like an animal making an offering. Nothing about this made him want to listen to him despite the repeated warnings. 

The Asset didn't hesitate to move forward. It was easy, listening to someone else when you couldn't trust yourself. There were no vehicles for miles, he heard none and there had been none since early that evening. Trust for the Captain to choose such a boring neighborhood. It made it easier for him to leave when he got called to missions. All the other houses had their lights out, it was half past midnight and they had all been asleep for hours too. He winced minimally with a pain glancing up from his hip, the slight change of his facial expression making the days old blood on his face crack a little more, a few flakes peeling off and disappearing to the ground. His own blood and others. It was easy to take a life so he could live. That was all he knew. He stood in the middle of the road, breathing slowly, methodically, and he was fighting the urge, the need to sway. "You don't need to see me," he responded in that same voice when he'd finished walking forward. "I've come out. You need to leave New York." He did sway then, he had to take a step to compensate the weight change. "There are so many more coming for you."

Steve immediately noticed the shift in weight as he stepped forward, steadying himself with a wince forming causing his broad shoulders to tense up. The man's face was still shrouded in shadows and filth stained across his cheeks and knotting his hair with what looked like dirt, but Steve assumed was probably blood. "...Come closer." He insisted once more, his own voice wavering and cracking slightly as he inhaled sharply at how easily he was listening to him though he was obviously still hesitating as if fighting against it. "Are you going to take me?" He asked softly, he felt like he was toeing the boundaries of this conversation, ask too much and the man could be gone. Were there really more coming? Was this just some elaborate plan to get to him? He took a step back from the doorway, a silent invitation for the other man to come inside. "Let me at least help you get cleaned up." He offered carefully. "Then I'll leave. I'll go wherever you want me to." He kept his hands limp at his sides, attempting to come off as something that wasn’t threatening, more inviting; though that wasn't very hard when he was standing there in a threadbare cotton t-shirt and a pair of blue flannel pajama pants. He was probably making a terrible mistake offering this man to come in, but it wasn't like Steve couldn't handle himself if need be. 

That... Was a fair deal. And the order had been repeated, twice now and there was still a lot of space to cover. So... His feet were moving again, his limp more obvious and his bones aching, he was on the same side of the street as the Captain now, and he didn't say a word. He'd said his piece. Though... The house was large, it was very bright and the Asset had to close his eyes a little bit more so he could adjust. He knew the floor plan of this building, hell, he'd slept on the couch more than a few times if the Captain had gone away on a less than a level seven mission, where he didn't need the support of a silent gun on the roofs. He stood just in front of the door, expression neutral except for the slight downturn of his dry lips. He was thirsty, too. He wouldn't be able to fight back for very long if the Captain wanted to detain him. He... didn't seem threatening, though. He wasn't often doing malicious things. He stood over his most recent kill, there had been no injuries from that, and he paused, watching the blond and waiting for further command. "The sooner we leave the safer you will be," he pointed out. His own maintenance could wait. He was functioning on 30%, that was enough for now.

Steve's muscles tensed the closer the got to his building, taking another step back, his eyes rounding when their gazes locked. What? This had to be some kind of joke, he heart picking up and feeling a bit light headed. It was Bucky. Bucky was standing in front of him, smeared in dried blood and dirt, the issued combat clothing looking a little worse for wear and stiff, not at all very comfortable for long periods of wear. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he took another step back, trying to collect his racing thoughts. There were no signs of recognition in the other mans' pale narrowed look, so Steve wasn't going to breach the situation too quickly. Swallowing thickly he step aside to let him instead before closing the door quickly behind him as if the moment would pass and he'd be gone. "The safer I'll be." He repeated him with a clipped tone, his palms itched and his throat felt tight. "Are you going to come with me?" His voice cracked once more but he could care less about reeling it in and gaining control over his brimming emotions swelling in his chest. Bucky was here. 

The Asset didn't know why this man looked so emotional, except he did. He'd read the information, all about himself on the Internet. The inside of the house was clean and warm, like it had been the past few months. The Asset paused as soon as he was in the doorway, though, not answering the question but looking dryly amused. "Do you want me to take off my boots? Or move the man on your doorstep?" He asked, turning his body marginally away from the Captain, so they weren't breathing the same air or imposing on each other. The last time's he'd been here he'd tried to clean his things, made sure not to make a mess or indicate he'd been around. "You have neighbors," he parroted, grey eyes a little empty as he fixed them on the floor obediently. 

Steve meant to say something about the dead man on his stoop, but nothing came out when he parted his lips to speak, his brows furrowing. He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat more than anything, but before he could stop himself he was moving forward into the other man’s space and reaching out. He knew this was a bad idea but he continued to wrap his arms around his shoulders tightly, ducking his head frown to press it against his neck despite the grime and musk collected there. He inhaled deeply, fingers curling into the stiff fabric there, he could feel the coarse scrape of the hair growing on Bucky's jaw line brush against his cheek. "Bucky." He rasped out, voice muffled where his head was buried. His eyes stung as he clenched them shut desperately and suddenly felt like he was the ninety-pound punk from Brooklyn again. He felt his stomach tighten and twist, not stepping back from the other man. He couldn't bring himself to let go.

The Asset had at first wanted to do something evasive or defensive, but he stood absolutely still, the weight on his shoulders aggravating the wounds quite badly. He held his breath almost, the name resonating around his head and barely meaning anything. Except... "Not anymore Stevie." It fell off his lips without his permission, and he was trying to step back, he didn't like this-- he felt trapped. "You have neighbors, we need to move him," his monotone pointed out, and he was tensing even more, jaw gritting more, and he inhaled sharply, resorting to what he knew. To reject touch from his handlers was punishable, but this man had already told him that he wasn't his handler, so maybe he could. "The sooner we leave, the safer you will be." Escape, he needed to escape and get the Captain out of here. He didn't know what else to do, this contact wasn't aggressive and it only hurt him because of his cuts, nothing else. It wasn't meant to hurt him. 

Steve had to bite back the sob that wracked his body, feeling hot tears swell, fingers instinctively tightening around the rough fabric. He stumbled forward with the shift of weight when Bucky had stepped back, he loosened his grip quickly and let go. He could feel his chest tighten painfully when the familiar endearment escaped the others lips in a rasp, "Bucky." He said once more, feeling as if he needed to ground himself, straightening his posture but could feel his skin flush with emotion, heat still racing. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. We need to move him." He felt like his was on autopilot, nerves buzzing in his fingertips, feeling his lungs constrict slightly. His breath hitched and it felt the same way it did when he use to get frequent asthma attacks, biting into the meat of his cheek to collect himself, he couldn't get worked up now. "We need to move the body. We--you need to get out of here."

The Asset was pressed right to the front door, his boots leaving little track marks on the linoleum in the entrance. "Go finish your ramen," he said, nostrils flared just a little bit, grey eyes wide with a sort of panic, because he had no idea how to deal with the situation he was faced with. Crying people were easily dealt with if they were a mission, but this wasn't an elimination mission. "I can move him." Space. Space would be good. "There is a rubbish dumpster two blocks down, I can dispose the body there," he offered, whole body screaming at him to just stop, to let it rest-- but he ignored it just like normal. Machines and weapons didn't need to rest, not until they were not needed to stop being used. When he was back in the ice he could rest properly, if he could get back to it. He didn't know why the Captain was reacting to him like this, but if they had space for a little while it might be easier.

Steve had long since lost his appetite and the thought of finishing off the cold noodles left him a little nauseous. Despite that, he nodded his head obediently and watched Bucky move back outside the door and close it firmly behind him. He had nothing to believe that he would be back, but with the shift and scrape of something moving outside the door validated enough for him that at least the body was being moved. He stood where he was for a moment longer before turning on his heel and moving to go grab some things he might need in the next half hour or so. He was going to have to help Bucky get cleaned up, grabbing a towel and first aid kit from the small closet in the hallway leading toward the bathroom. After gathering some things into his arms and moving into the kitchen, his bowl left abandoned on the kitchen counter, he bypassed it to lay the things out on the kitchen table and continued to move and grab a two bottles of water out of the fridge for Bucky when and if he came back. Steve sniffed and could feel his nose running, he had always been an ugly crier, his skin felt hot and eyes swollen raw, working fast to unpack the kit onto the surface of the table.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes I'm still alive and I'm still stucky trash  
> I'm so sorry about how shit I am with posting why am I not harassed about these things
> 
> ENJOY XX

The body felt heavier than it should have, probably because he was so weary, but the walk didn't take long. He had to walk behind homes, not on the street, because he wasn't stupid, and while he walked he thought. Bucky. A name. A persona and something tangible that he had once been. James Buchanan Barnes. He hissed through his teeth as he ran and cleared a fence, the movements stretching and pulling at cuts that weren't healed, stretching scars that were still sensitive. He almost woke a dog sleeping in its house but he managed to move like a shadow and leave it unconscious. He didn't want to kill the dog. He got to the dumpster after seven minutes and forty two seconds and opened it quietly, shoving the body in as deep as it would go, he had some of the man's blood on his hands and he wiped them on his pants, shutting it quietly too, knowing any traces of himself wouldn't be on any files so he didn't care. He quickly made his way back to the Captain's home, opening the door quietly and bending over with a little grunt to untie his boots and leave them at the front door. His feet smelled, making his expression curl just a little bit. He wandered to where he could hear movement, and stood by the wall to the entrance of the kitchen. "Steve," he said, to get the man's attention of his return and nothing more. The travel back had been shorter thanks to the loss of his kill... The Asset was quiet, leaning onto the wall a little bit for support.

Tensing and pausing his movements when he heard his name called from the kitchen door way, turning to see Bucky leaning his weight fully against the doorway, his expression haggard. Without saying anything he moved over to him, easily reaching out and taking his hand in his and leading him over to sit down. This all felt too sickeningly familiar. This was still Bucky. Steve could remember all the times he Bucky had led them to their small kitchen table in their even smaller share apartment, he would patch Steve up there after he had gotten into a fight or help him calm down when he got too worked up for his lungs to keep up with. Steve gave his hand a small squeeze, lingering before releasing it and grabbing a water bottle to hand to him. He offered a small smile, even though it still looked weepy, his pale eyes rounded and rimmed with tear-swollen skin. "I'm sorry." He didn't give any context before he began to grab a wash cloth, intended to wet it under the sink with hot water so he could begin to wipe down Bucky's face.

The Asset let himself be led, and he sat heavily, his clothing rustling with the wear it had, not any longer as silent as it had been made to be. He didn't know why he felt like he was rexperiencing something, he just sat in silence, a little confused in the face of the Captain's tears. He hadn't cried when they'd first met, on the bridge, or on the helicarrier... Was something wrong? "Would you like me to shower first?" He offered though, completely dismissing the apology, because he didn't know what to do with it. The cloth wouldn't be enough. He quickly changed his statement though by adding more, frowning a little. Was he offering or was he crossing lines questioning what the Captain obviously wanted to do. He had to elaborate. "It will be more effective cleaning wise. You can clean me in the shower if you deem that appropriate." The Captain's own clothes had gotten grimy in their short embrace, so maybe he wanted a shower too.

Steve's eyes widened a bit at the suggestion, looking over his shoulder from his spot at the sink, "You can use my shower, yeah." He gave him a small reassuring smile before wringing the rag out in the sink and taking it back over to where the other man was seated. He gauged his reaction before he carefully reached out and began wiping gently at the grime smeared across Bucky's cheeks. Feeling his chest tighten with the more that clear skin became visible. Once he had wiped enough that it would be easier to rinse off in the shower, Steve placed the cloth on the table, "Do you want me to show you where the bathroom is?" He was reminded that Bucky knew where he lived and had probably already been inside of his apartment, but it placed some normality between them if he offered. He took a step back to give him some room, shifting his weight to his other foot and picking at the hem of his shirt, just noticing the dried blood and filth staining the front of his t-shirt. 

The Asset sat in silence, waiting for the Captain to do what he wished, let the handler do his bidding like he was used to, and he didn't flinch when the cloth pressed into a cut over his eyebrow from three days ago that probably should be healed but wasn't due to his exhaustion. It wasn't obvious with his stubble and the grime and that was okay, and once his face was cleaner he have a short nod. He'd not flinched when he was touched, the larger man's movements more careful and gentle then you'd expect. "I know where it is," he said casually, standing and just barely managing not to stumble at the head rush. He didn't know what he was like this, he was functioning like he normally did when he was out of the ice. "Is the towel for me?" He asked, pausing in the doorway, looking to the blond and trying not to sway while he stood. It was disobedient to assume something was for him, but leniency was something he was beginning to expect from this man.

Steve watched wearily as Bucky stumbled and moved across the kitchen tiles, steadying his weight in the doorway before entering the hall, glancing over at the table, "Oh, yeah. Of course." He hastily grabbed the folded towel off the kitchen table and made his way over to him, not offering it yet, keeping it pressed against his chest. "I'll follow you." He gave a small smile, letting the other take the lead, making sure to stand close behind just in case he became off-balanced or needed some help. "Would you like to rest afterwards?" He suggested almost hesitantly; he knew things were a little tense right now, but neither of them was going to get anywhere if they were both exhausted. "Then we'll leave." He said quickly as an afterthought.  

The Asset moved through the house like it was his own, his back oddly exposed but he didn't feel threatened. The Captain had shown no indication of being a threat and honestly seemed like nothing more than a normal man without his shield, excluding his physique. "I'm currently running on 25 percent. We can leave the country and then rest," he said, getting to the bathroom and opening the door, leaning against the frame. "Leave first." Then he was in the bathroom and starting to undo his gear, no craving for modesty, though he paused, his jacket on the floor leaving a ruffled, plain black tank top exposing the aggravated scars on his shoulders, bruising and old pink scars. "Are you showering too?"

He backed up and stood outside the door, leaning his weight back against the wall with the towel still clutched to his chest. He felt light-headed, it was already pushing past midnight and Bucky looked like he had been through Hell in back in just the short time he had been in his apartment. He perked up at the question, "Oh? You can go first." He insisted from outside the door, before shifting his weight to reach out, his arm only visible from the door as he held out the towel. "I'll just go change, I showered this evening." Bucky needed it a lot more than he did, so he would rather him take his time in the shower and get cleaned up without feeling like he needed to rush. "Are we flying? Should I book a ticket or-" He knew he was rambling, but everything was happening so suddenly, he needed to pack. He needed to tell his team where he would be going.

The Asset took the towel and hung it on the rack so it didn't mix on the ground with his dirty clothes. It would hurt to take off his tank top, it would hurt his arms so he simply ripped it and dropped to the floor. The bathroom was quickly beginning to smell really badly of his BO, of dirt and the tang of blood... "I've got it organized," he said, standing topless and looking at himself for a moment in the mirror-- his torso laced with the scars, and the stab wound going directly to his hip bone was just visible over his pants. He started to undo his pants and he was shaking with the pain of peeling them off, the wound to his side was even more painful exposed, it was groggily bleeding again. "I won't be long, Steve. You don't have to wait outside." Now he was just in his underwear, and he was grimy and he wanted to tidy up. "Do I have permission to shave and cut my hair?" He asked, running a hand through his greasy hair and wincing as that moved a part of his hair that was ripped at the scalp.

Steve shifted once more to move into the bathroom, "You don't need to ask for permission for anything, Buc-" His voice trailed off when he entered through the threshold, his breath catching in his throat. His stomach twisted painfully at what he saw, taking in the grime and wounded skin, cuts raw and irritated; it was painful just looking at it. His eyes were rounded with worry, parting his lips to say something but just a soft croak escaped him. "Let me get you the shaving kit." His said instead, swallowing thickly, sharp scents and musk that was just so innately  _Bucky_  invaded his senses fully. He moved carefully and opened one of the cabinets underneath the sink, setting the kit on top of the counter. "How about you go ahead and hop in the shower. I'll get everything set up and ready for you when you get out?" He said this softly, giving him a small smile despite the worrying between his eyebrows.   

"I will want to stitch up some cuts," The Asset said, peeling off his underwear and dropping them to the floor, and he ran his hand over his crotch, frowning. He had cuts on his inner thigh, bruising and such, he sighed, turning and stepping into the shower. He looked confused at the tap, and pulled at it experimentally, flinching but not crying out when freezing cold water washed over his skin. He stood, staring at the wall and standing still, the cold water not that effective at getting through the grime but still washing a dirty brown. He sighed, the cold was something he was used to, something he could deal with, it... Made him want to go to sleep. The water hurt his cuts, the pressure too high, but he didn't know how to change it-- didn't know that it was even changeable.

Steve set up the shaving kit on the counter before grabbing another towel, he would get clothes for Bucky after he had gotten out. He averted his eyes when he pulled his underwear down narrow hips, he had seen Buck naked plenty of times but it caught him a bit off guard at how unashamed he had stripped down in front of him. He stood there a moment before kneeling down to gather his clothing up off the floor before he realized that there was no steam emitting from the shower, giving a small frown, he moved over and slid his hand through the small opening in the curtain and felt the water; the bundle of dirty clothing cradled in the crook of his left elbow. He flinched at the frigid water, moving his hand without saying anything to reach down and adjust the knob so that it gradually heated up. He wasn't going to point anything out, no wanting Bucky to feel like he had done anything wrong. Retracting his hand from inside the shower, "I'm going to go get the first-aid kit and something for you to wear." He said loud enough for him to hear of the spray of water.

Bucky was just standing under the water and he didn't make a noise when he saw the hand, he'd been touched while naked before and fighting back only resulted in punishment-- except he wasn't touched, the nozzle was, and the water was getting warmer... A warmth he wasn't used to. "Okay," he replied over the water, blinking it out of his eyes, and he felt himself relaxing-- he saw a cloth now hanging-- he wasn't tense with the cold and looked around, and started running it over his skin, the cloth leaving marks in the grime, he found a liquid soap that smelled fruity and nice... 

He was methodical as he cleaned himself, sitting down with the shampoo he'd found and scrubbing too, using his brain to just do what was in there after reading the instructions, he lathered it carefully into his hair, it was stinging his cuts and eyes a little bit but it wasn't too bad-- the water ran black with the dirt from his hair and face as he scrubbed it, then he did his chest, his thighs and underarms. It felt amazing, he was almost falling asleep because his muscles were so relaxed, but he stood again to clean his lower regions properly too. When he was fully clean he ran his hands over himself-- it seemed foreign, to see his skin it's pale olive color. The cuts had been cleaned too, some were bleeding gluggily again but some were just pink and some were scabs... He nodded and stood under the water, waiting for Steve to tell him he needed to get out of the shower. He wanted to stay in the warm.

Steve came back fifteen minutes later with the rest of the things he'd need, laying them all out on the counter to be dealt with when needed. He grabbed a larger towel, "Are you done?" He didn't get a reply at first but noticed that there wasn't really any movement behind the curtain, he stepped forward and pulled it back a bit, seeing Bucky stand there, looking clean aside from a little blood still seeping through some cuts. "You clean up nice." He said with a reassuring smile, he realized he was going to have to handle this like a situation when Bucky use to come home drunk and stumbling, Steve would have to throw him into the tub back then, too. "You did good, Bucky." He kept with the soft reassurances, reaching down to turn off the faucet and then shuffle his feet over the bath mat so that he was standing next to him.  Resituating the towel, he leaned forward and draped it over his shoulders, giving it a quick rub to soak up the water. "Let me get you another towel for your hair."

The Asset blinked at the Captain when the water shut off, he didn't flinch at the towel being draped over him but the praise had his chest warming and he managed a small little smile, foreign on his face and otherwise hollow. He was a good boy. And he was complimented on his appearance. He knew how to be beautiful to seduce people, but he wasn't trying now, he was just doing what he was expected to do. He grabbed the towel from his shoulders and started wiping down his arms, methodical in that too, his waist and torso next, missing the cuts because that hurt too much. Especially the one on his hip, he could see a flash of bone through the flesh and that one hurt because it wouldn't heal no matter what. He leaned against the wall a little bit, taking an internal inventory. "I'm functioning at 20 percent. I may have to rest for an hour or two before we leave so I can protect you when we leave." He said this in a very matter of fact way, cleaning around his crotch and thighs carefully and softly too.

His chest swelled at the small smile pulling at the corners of his lips, "There' that smile." He said with his own, he took note of the more severe wounds, moving back over to the counter to make sure there was clean needles and anything else he needed in helping Bucky finish up. "Yeah, you need to rest before we leave." He said, grabbing another towel so he could walk back over to the tub and begin towel-drying the wet locks of hair, gentle in his movements. He kept his eyes up, ignoring the slow flick of Bucky's wrist as he wiped over his groin and thighs, "We're going to need to patch up your hip before anything, though." He tousled his hair and moved the towel away, a grin forming on full lips at the fluffed up lock of dark hair. "You still want to cut you hair?" He had to admit that Bucky did look handsome with the longer hair, but it would probably be better if he cropped it back down; despite the fact that seeing _that_  Bucky again twisted his stomach in knots.

The Asset stood still and careful as the Captain dried his hair, the steam whirling around them was keeping him warm even if it was cooler with the shower not constantly on him. He tilted to look at himself in the mirror, his grey eyes seemed duller without the grime to make them stand out. He looked to the Captain and nodded. "I'll trim it so it's easier to maintain, I will shave too... Are you going to stitch up my cuts?" He asked, a small frown forming between his brows. He didn't know why the Captain kept looking at him the way he did... It made him shiver a little and a warmth gather in his gut. He probably should have wrapped a towel around his hips because it seemed that looking at his crotch was something the other was adverse to, but he just dropped the towel and stepped out of the shower onto the mat, walking towards the sink. "I can stitch myself up if you want, I can do that." In hindsight, he should've done it to himself when they happened, and then he'd be in better condition... But trying to do that in the conditions he'd been living would make them prone to infection and perhaps making the injuries worse. Now he was clean and he probably had the right equipment at his disposal now.

Steve stepped to the side to le the other man out, glancing over to watch him pad over nude to the sink, "Will you at least let me cut your hair?" He was agreeing to letting him stitch his own wounds up, in all honesty Steve probably didn't have the stomach or the steady hand for it. He picked up the disposed towel off the bath mat and hung it on the rack next to the shower, taking the towel he used to dry his hair and spread it across the bathroom tiles. That would help with the clean-up after his hair was cut, easier to collect the pieces that gathered there off the floor. "Everything you need is there. I also grabbed some ibuprofen for any swelling and pain." He tapped the top of the pill bottle as he said this. His skin felt flushed from the shower steam lingering in the room and trying to keep casual despite Bucky being nude.

"Yes," The Asset replied softly, not yawning but blinking slowly at his reflection before grabbing the bottle of ibuprofen and popping the top off, tipping a handful of about seven into his hand and popping them into his mouth without warning and swallowing them dry. If it was normal medication he would need a lot to over to get over his over working metabolism. That and he was very injured and had a lot of swelling and pain. He got the razor and looked at it, but he set it back down and confidently handed the scissors to Steve, who would keep him safe. Not a threat, he had proved not to be a threat. Not that he could say no to a request from his handler anyway. "Just trim it shorter, long enough that I can tie it up," he requested almost a little softly, not wanting to upset the Captain by having a preferred way to have his hair.

"Anything you want, Buck." He said with a soft smile and took the scissors gently from the other and stepped up behind him on the towel that he had spread out on the tiles. He already had a brush in hand and carefully began combing through the tangled bits of his hair, once it was smoothed out a bit more it reached his shoulders. He gave his head a light rub before he began clipping away at the end, making sure to even out the length. "After I get this done, you can get patched up. I grabbed you some of my clothes to wear for right now, if that's okay?" He had just grabbed a black tank-top that was sure to fit on him, pair of sweatpants and just one of his newer pairs of underwear. He combed through the wavy strands of hair and snipped more, quickly finishing to where his hair reached a little past his jaw-line. "All done." It hadn't taken too long, Steve was actually kind of proud of himself, sitting the scissors back inside his shaving kit.

"It's okay," The Asset replied mechanically, and the brush through his hair was actually really soothing, and he hadn't been touched kindly in so long, he was almost confused about it, standing robotically still as he watched his hair fall. It didn’t even hurt too badly when Steve ran the brush over where his scalp had been torn up, surprisingly. He gave a short nod when the job was done, it tidied him up a little more, and it was going to be easier to keep out of his face. He took the razor, then, as well as a cream, and he immediately got to the job, grey eyes focused on his reflection as he filled the sink up with the water that came out of the faucet-- luckily warm this time. As he was clearing tracks through the hair on his face, he glanced to Steve in the mirror too. "Thank you, Stevie," once more fell off his lips like it was controlled by something else other than himself. Then his eyes flicked away, keeping his hips away from the sink edge so it didn't press into his crotch or his injuries.

Steve's blue eyes visibly rounded in the reflection of the mirror, pink lips parting slightly as he felt his face flush with warmth and his chest swell with a sharp feeling of happiness that sat heavy in the pit of his stomach. "Anytime, Bucky." He couldn't bite back the goofy smile that spread across his lips, teeth showing. Everything about this felt sickeningly domestic, watching from the side as Bucky shaved his face. After he cleaned up the hair from the floor and disposed of both towels in the laundry hamper beside the sink, he loosely crossed his arms against his chest but frowned and looked down at his own chest, becoming one again aware of the remaining mess that still stained the front of his shirt. He had forgotten to change. Oh well, he would get to it when Bucky was all settled and patched up. "Are you hungry? I can make you something. Don't want you to go to bed on an empty stomach." He insisted almost pathetically, voice cracking. He was practically mother-henning the older man, this was probably what Bucky felt when they lived together before the war.

The Asset had felt as if he'd wanted to smile back at the blond, but his expression remained impassive. Even with a warmed chest and a... Fluttering stomach? The sink was getting cloudy with the hair coming off his face and the cream, his movements were slow and careful, there was no way he was going to nick his skin. Even exhausted as he was, he wouldn't hurt himself. "At present time sustenance can be postponed," he said carefully, tilting his head up to expose his throat in a way that was very vulnerable, and he swallowed once before running the razor over it. He didn't know why he trusted Captain Rogers, he'd been a good handler before and even though he was bigger now, it felt like he was still being a good handler. "Though maybe to make the medication work a bit more effectively something eaten might help." Did Steve want to feed him? Would that make him smile like he had just been again? Smiling was good, Steve smiling was good, and he... Wanted it. Maybe he wanted to make Steve smile because that meant he was cooperating and being a good boy.

He placed a damp wash-cloth on the counter for Bucky to use once he was finished shaving so he could wipe his face down with the warm cloth. He had frowned a little bit in disappointment when he had said that he didn't need anything but perked up once more when he had changed his mind. "Okay, yeah. I can do that." Another crooked smiled formed on his lips, he wasn't going to leave the room until he knew that Bucky was finishing up, he still needed to patch himself up and he was intent on staying where he was until he was sure that everything was going to go smoothly. He moved to sit on the closed toilet seat, crossing his arms loosely against his stomach, his own belly giving a soft rumble at the prospect of food; remembering his forgotten noodles on the kitchen counter. He would make something else for them to eat when Bucky was finished. "How are you feeling? Did the shower help?" He sounded like a child with all the questions, but he just wanted Bucky to feel safe.

There it was, that smile, and that felt like direct praise almost. He nodded, and finally his face was clean, he wiped off his jaw carefully and looked at himself in the mirror, a little shocked to see his face fully again. His cheeks were tucked tight against him, his jaw really prominent. He needed to eat, but... He could function on just a little bit. Yeah... The more he thought about it, his ribs were a little bit prominent and his stomach concaved a little bit. He looked at the needles on the bench and assumed they were painkillers, glancing at the labels and flicking it to make sure there were no bubbles in them. He knew needles and pain. So he stuck one in his thigh, pressed it down right into the muscle and administered, not flinching at all. Then he took a second just underneath it. He found a needle and medical thread and tied it easily, holding it through his teeth and pausing just a moment to look to Steve just before he started sewing his flesh together. "I'm functioning at 21 percent," he corrected from earlier, not numb yet but not even phased by the stinging pain and the ache, pulling it together easily just like he used to, to Steve's cuts before the war, or to comrades that needed to stay alive on mission. 

Steve averted his eyes from the steady movement of Bucky feeding the needle and stitching thread through the nastier wound on his hip, feeling his stomach flip at how suddenly he was completing it. He balked under Bucky's sharp gaze when he looked over his shoulder at him before he continued, his forearms tightening around his stomach but gave a small smile at what he assume was reassurance on Bucky's end. "I'm glad you're feeling better, then." He shifted his weight on the toilet seat and glanced over to see him finishing up, letting out a soft sigh of relief that he didn't realize he had been holding in. "I've got some gauze, too." He suggested, moving to stand up from the toilet and reaching over to the first aid-kit to grab the roll of surgical gauze. He didn't realize until a moment later how close he was standing to the other man until he looked up again when he felt a puff of warm breath against his cheek.


	4. Chapter 4

The wound closed up nicely, and the medication was kicking in and he was finally feeling the numbness, there was a gash on his bicep he was getting to now, and he let Steve do whatever he wished, he wanted to stitch up his eyebrow too. There was a balm for the cuts that weren't as bad, he stood stick still Steve approached, still working at his bicep and he looked to the side of Steve's face, huffing out just a little bit of a laugh, hollow some and simply amused that Steve had no sense of spacial awareness. "I'll use the gauze," he said lowly, nipping and tying the stitches for his arm and stepping to give the Captain some more space, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. 

Steve cleared his throat and took a step back himself, reaching out to grab the gauze from the kit and sat it on the counter for Bucky. He had felt a shiver run down his spine when he heard the rough chuckle sound from the other man's throat, warming his cheeks more than the hot breath against his cheek. "I'll just put it there." He said dumbly, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue and averting his eyes to look over what was left in the kit. "Is there anything else I can do, Buck?" He asked softly, side-glancing the other man while he bit the excess thread from the needle and finished up the stitching on his large bicep.

The Asset didn't feel lust, but there was a feeling of tightness swirling around his groin, not enough to arouse him, but enough to get some color into his chest a little bit. He wiped the needle with the cloth and started putting the gauze on without so much as a bat of an eyelid. "I need to stitch up a few more things, are those clothes on the ground for me?" He asked, leaning over the sink now to start patching his brow. It was unusual, to look like this. To feel like he had a body and a name-- Steve calling him by it so often resonated down to his bones. He had been a person. Could he become a person? He wasn't sure. And the way Steve kept looking at him, like he held a light or a purpose... Had they been something before this? Handler and weapon, maybe more? He couldn't remember. He flicked his grey eyes to Steve again. "You need to eat something. You didn't finish your noodles." That had been his fault, and he could care about the needs of his handler, right? That didn't break any rules...

He looked down at the clothing folded neatly on the floor where he had placed them after he moved them aside to sit on the seat of the toilet, "Yeah, they're just some of my sweats. Also, I figured a tank-top would be more comfortable than shirt sleeves rubbing at your shoulders." He gestured to Bucky's left side where raw skin was looking less irritated around the sharp shine of metal catching the reflection of the bathroom lights. He hadn't really thought too much about Bucky's left arm, it should feel foreign and out of place on him but it was  _Bucky_  now, he couldn't bring himself to think it looked odd. He kneeled down to pick up the folded pile of clothes and set them on the counter before he started to pack away things neatly into the kit, glancing every so often to look at Bucky's reflection where he was concentrating on wiping down the cut on his brow. "I can wait for you to finish. I'm not all that hungry, actually." He tried to give a reassuring smile-- but then of course a soft rumble emitted from his belly.

It didn't take long to his brow clean, and he finally set the needle and thread to be put away with the rest of the things. He pulled the tank top on and it didn't hurt as much, and it was a pleasant healing ache he felt when he pulled on the sweatpants too. The fabric was soft and clean, comfortable, and it had been a long time since he'd been able to use that word freely. It didn't rub his arms and didn't hug to his wounds. It was... Nice. He let Steve hang around, that was obviously something he was set on doing and the Asset had no business questioning him. Especially if he was lying to stay where he was. It didn't affect him either way what the Captain did. He wiped down the sink out of tidiness habits ingrained and worked into him, and then he turned to look at the blond, putting his arms out to the side and doing a small turn to show his body off. "Acceptable?" He asked, not seeming hopeful but honestly asking.

Steve gave a small huff of a laugh when he noticed that Bucky had completely bypassed the underwear he had set out along with the clothing to instead pull on the loose-fitting sweatpants up over narrow hips. He finished packing things away and disposed of the used needles, shutting the kit. He shifted his weight to turn to face the other when everything was cleaned and packed away, he was almost tempted to say that Bucky didn't have to worry about cleaning after himself because he would have gotten it; but it did leave an air of normality between them. He gave him a once-over when he did a mock turn with his arms up at his sides. A laugh bubbled up his chest at the act when there was still a look of indifference on the man's face; Steve took a step forward and before he could stop himself he was reaching his hands out and cupping the sides of Bucky's cheeks lightly, "Hey, Bucky." A genuine smile forming on his lips as his expression softened.

At first the Asset was confused as to why the Captain was laughing, not responding, and a small frown graced his features. However, then he realized Steve was smiling and that was all the approval he needed, nodding and looking down to himself. Except... Then the blond was walking forward and the Assets expression went to one of confusion. He was being touched and suddenly that didn't seem so unwelcome even though it held his head in place. Steve's hands were warm and soft on his now smooth face, a little rough yet soft. Familiar. The Asset's lips couldn't help it when they curled up a little bit, and he nodded. "Hello," he responded politely, grey eyes still confused but relaxed. There were no threats here. 

He smoothed the pad of his thumb high his cheek bone, his chest swelled when he responded and suddenly his sinuses burned and his heart fluttered as his stomach flipped at the all too familiar smile hinted at his lips, "Hi." His voice cracked when he spoke once more, his dark eyes taking in his face fully. He bit down on his lower lip as his smile became a little watery and weepy from the sudden force of emotions. He wasn't going to cry again, but he couldn't keep the flush from his skin, sliding his hands from his cheeks to rest the flats of his palms against Bucky's bare broad shoulders, "Okay-" He inhaled, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat, ""How about something to eat then?" He removed his hands and averted his eyes as he took a step back. He wasn't being fair to Bucky, he probably was looking at him like he had done something wrong. Steve needed to regain control over himself.

The smile disappeared as soon as he saw the sudden wetness in Steve's expression, and concern created a small furrow between his eyebrows. The Captain was being so tender with him, so intimate with his gaze, and it had the Asset believing that there was definitely more to their past relationship than his mind could recollect. The touch made his shoulders ache but it wasn't bad and he wanted to be touched nicely again... He wanted his handler to touch him for the first time in his life, but he simply pursed his lips and nodded in a way that had strands of his newly cut hair falling into his eyes. "Yes," he said softly, rocking on his heels a little bit and nodding to the door to show Steve that he was permitted to lead the way this time. 

Steve turned the light out to the bathroom and began to lead the other man to the kitchen down the hall, feeling him keep in step close behind. "There anything in particular you want? I've gotten better at cooking." He teased lightly, though he almost immediately regretted it when the realization struck quickly after that Bucky probably wouldn't remember something like that. He cleared his throat and continued into the kitchen, he could feel eyes on his back the whole time following each move. His fingers curled tighter around the handle of the fridge door, heart beating against his ribs as he inhaled deeply to calm himself. He could feel anxious energy thrum through his very being, he wanted to keep his hands occupied on any part of Bucky's being that he was allowed to touch.

Steve's back was the only thing he could watch as they walked through the house, but when they got to the kitchen he tore his eyes away and went to sit at the kitchen bench without preamble. His feet were cold so he tucked one underneath the crook of his knee and watched Steve from his seat, expression neutral once more. He hadn't tasted Steve's cooking before but he was pretty sure it would be sustenance cooked well or not. He let out a little huff, wondering why the Captain had paused in the way of the fridge, though he didn't question it. "Protein, preferably," he responded directly, fingers of his metal hand tracing the bench absently. It was unusual, to not need to be on high alert. To feel... Calm. He couldn't let it lull him into a sense of security. They had to leave, they had to get out of here. Just because they were safe now did not mean they would be safe in five minutes. He had to remember that.

"Protein." He repeated quietly to himself with a nod, he ducked his head down enough that he was able to peek onto the lower shelves of the fridge. He scanned the contents without really taking in what he was seeing, biting his lower lip to keep himself focused, "I've got some eggs." He suggested in thought, breakfast was easy. Something he could whip up quickly without messing it up. He reached in and grabbed the carton of eggs out to set them out on the counter, also taking out another bottle of water for Bucky to drink while he waited. Shutting the door and turning to move over to the small table placed in the corner of his kitchen near a window, he held out the bottle, "Here you go," his eyes wouldn't exactly meet the other's, wanting to quickly get back to his task so he didn't do something that he might regret.

The Asset took the water bottle and cracked open the lid immediately and obediently, taking a few hurried gulps of it before setting it down and taking a few deep breaths. His voice hadn't been croaky or dry since the shower and he put one elbow on the bench to balance his chin on it in a very relaxed manner, even though he had an ear out for any noises that seemed out of place. He watched as the Captain bustled around the kitchen, following him with his eyes, when he said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen, "Did I say something wrong?" 

He was pulling the pan off the stove top that had the fried eggs in it to set them aside so the he could focus back on getting the bread out of the toaster, "Huh?" He was caught off guard when he heard Bucky speak from the table, his tone relaxed, he placed the toast on a plate but kept his back turned to him. "Of course not." He said softly, keeping himself busy with turning the stove off and grabbing the handle of the skillet so he could scoop the eggs out with a spatula. He didn't think he was coming off so tense that Bucky would suggest that he had been the one who had done something wrong. He placed the pan in the sink to take care of later--...if they would still be there later. "You didn't do anything wrong, Buck." He said once more, attempting to reassure himself more than anything.

The Asset knew how to read people. He could read body language easily and there was tension across Steve's shoulders, there was a sadness in his eyes and something else underneath it. But then again he couldn't be entirely sure because the Captain wasn't looking directly at him anymore. Conclusion, he'd made a mistake and had to find it so he could pin point it and rectify it. "Why won't you look at me?" he asked, not accusing in any way, just... blunt about it. He kept sipping at the water too, it was a commodity he hadn't learned to fully appreciate until he'd nearly died from not remembering he needed it. It soothed his throat too, made his stomach feel a little more settled.

Once things were all in place on the plate, Steve grabbed it by the edges and carried it carefully over to the table to set it down in front of Bucky with no added flourish. He made it a point to look him in the eye, with a smile that felt a little forced having just gotten his pulse to settle and breathing calmed; his pale skin more flushed from the heat of the stove more than anything. "You didn't do anything, Bucky." He repeated softer, he stepped to the opposite side and slid onto the bench across from him, placing his hands in his lap, "Sorry, it's not any anything special. I figured you wouldn't want anything heavy on your stomach before you went to bed." He knew he was beginning to ramble, drumming his fingertips against the tops of his knees, "I have some jelly, too. Do you want some?" He shifted his weight to move and stand.

"No thank you," the Asset said bluntly, now sitting up straight with his water bottle empty. He looked at the food in front of him, and already that was more than what he needed, more than he'd expected. He would've drunken those eggs raw from a glass if that was how it had been presented to him, but this was so much more... caring. Unusual. Unfamiliar. Those blue eyes of Steve's were holding the things he wasn't saying and it made the Asset a little uncomfortable that there were secrets, but he wasn't going to push. He wouldn't push. He looked at the meal in front of him and picked up a bit of the bread, toasted and warm, and frowned a little bit at it. "Do I use it to eat the eggs?" He asked, wondering how messy he would make it if he tried to scoop the food up onto the toast and eat it. He could try with his hands but that would also be messy and it would take a long time.

He furrowed his brows for a moment before realizing, "Oh! No, sorry, I forgot your fork. Sorry about that." He repeated himself and quickly moved to stand up, walking over to a drawer beside the fridge to pull it open and grabbed a fork out. As an afterthought he grabbed the jam from the fridge and made his way back to the table to set the things down. Just in case, he thought to himself, Bucky had always wanted jelly for his toast. He swallowed and sat back down across him, giving him an apologetic smile, "Hope you like sunny-side up eggs, I've finally perfected my technique." He said a bit proudly, his tone teasing. He wanted to ask Bucky so many things like, what did he remember, was he feeling any better? Should he apologize or the slight burn on the underside of the toast? He clasped his palms together underneath the table and bit his lower lip.

The Asset wasn't used to having apologies offered to him, but he decided that if Steve found enough worth in him the felt the need to apologize he wasn't going to complain. He looked at the fork and nodded slightly, he knew how to use this utensil. He used the edge of the fork to cut a bit of the toast off and glanced down at the jelly on the bench, a part of him saying that to have it just sitting there was such a waste, that it was sweet and it only came when they had earned enough money or saved up for the little treat... He popped the top off the jelly and dipped the bit of toast in it, looking intrigued as he brought it to his mouth and chewed softly, eyelashes fluttering just a little bit at the sweetness and the crunch. He decided he would save that until the very last. That was the nicest. He didn't mind Steve just sitting across from him either, he was used to being watched and he dunked some toast in the yolk of the egg to try that next, liking the taste of that too. He waited for Steve to say something or tell him off but he wasn't saying a thing and the Asset was okay with that. Then a thought crossed his mind, and he dunked a bit of toast in the egg and then got some jelly to spread on top of that. He popped it in his mouth and chewed, taking a moment. The things he liked individually weren't as nice together. Interesting.

His eyes rounded as he watched Bucky dissect his food and try things individually, as if I was his first time ever tasting anything like this. He knew that was a lie though, when he could remember all the time that they just lived off bread and eggs or rice and beans for every meal until Bucky got better work down at the docks. It almost slipped out to ask him how his day was working, if he was thinking about going out to the dance hall with some pretty dame on his arm.  He was lost in thought but was brought back at the sour expression that crossed his expression when he had seared a bit of jam on a yolk-soaked piece of toast. He startled himself with the laugh that bubbled from his chest, warming his cheeks as he stretched his legs out a bit underneath the table. He felt his bare foot come in contact with what he assumed was Bucky's ankle, he kept it there when there was no immediate demand to move it, "Is it good?" He asked with a warm smile pulling at his features; he had forgotten to get anything for himself but watching Bucky enjoy himself was just as satisfying to his own appetite.

The Asset started out of his eating methods when Steve laughed, and he automatically smiled just a little bit around his mouthful. It was like it had immediately become a reaction to Steve being happy. He was a good boy and had made Steve happy, therefore he had the opportunity to show he realized this and the corners of his lips would turn up. He felt Steve's foot too but didn't move, chest warm with the Captain's light expression and he nodded a little cutting some egg with the fork and then using a thumb and a forefinger to delicately place that on top of a bit of the bread. "That is sweet, that is not, both are nice on their own with toast but together they don't work," he said, pointing to each one accordingly before putting the next mouthful in and nodding again. It was like he was giving a mission report but it was so much nicer and it didn't hurt to relay. 

Steve moved his foot against Bucky's ankle, toeing at the hem of the sweatpants, "I'm glad you like it, Buck." The smile still evident on his lips, resting his forearms crossed on top of the table, ducking his head down to rest his chin on top of them. He felt much more relaxed since sitting back down and watching Bucky pick at his food before eating it, "Yeah, but sometimes it works. Oatmeal is bland but when you add something sweet to it, like maple syrup, it tastes even better." He suggested, enjoying the idle talk, wetting his lower lip before offering another smile as he looked up at Bucky from beneath thick lashes. "I can make you more, if you want?" He was almost finished with his plate, but if he wasn't full Steve wouldn't hesitate to get up and make him something else.

The Asset took that information and tucked it away, looking down a little to Steve's foot touching him, and he didn't say a thing about it. It made his abdomen clench, but he didn't know what to do about that so he stayed silent about it. He had cleared his plate and his stomach felt distended, he licked up yolk off his finger to clean the plate properly, and that wasn't very good manners, but he wanted to show Steve's he'd enjoyed it. He looked to Steve and shook his head, "No thank you," was his polite reply, he didn't want more. He was reminded, he needed to rest for an hour or so, and then they needed to leave. Or maybe... He was working on 25% and... "We should leave. I have a plane, we can go if you drive us to the air field."

His movements paused when Bucky suggested that they leave now, he sat back up straight in his seat, "But, you need to rest. We both do." He insisted with a small frown forming on full lips, his toes still pressed against his ankle bone to keep the close contact underneath the table. It felt almost grounding. "Just an hour." He sounded a little desperate to his own ears, but they couldn't just leave when Bucky needed sleep more than anything at the moment. He averted his eyes from the narrow gaze and focused his attention on the crumbs and drying yolk smeared across the surface of the plate in between them. "Just an hour, Bucky?" He asked more softly, looking back up with his lips a bit pursed. Then they would leave, he promised himself.

The Asset pursed his lips too, but he was more calculating with it. If they both slept for an hour then that was an hour of opportunity for someone to come into their home and slit their throats while they slept. He took a slow breath in through his nose, working his jaw and thinking. 25% was enough. "We can sleep on the plane. The plane is safer, and we'll be leaving to Russia. We'll sleep on the plane." His mind made up, the best action for the main mission, even if it went against what Steve wanted to do. The handler's safety above basic maintenance. Besides, he wouldn't be able to sleep in this warm. He needed the winter, and the cold. He would sleep better. He stood, taking his dishes carefully in hand so he could go put them in the sink. 

Steve ducked his chin down when Bucky spoke in a tone more authoritative than before, almost familiar to how he'd push Steve into going to lay down when he use to get sick. He shifted his weight to move his foot back and away when the other had stood up with his plate in hand, "Okay, Bucky." He said a bit childish, like he wasn't getting his way, he scooted to the side to slip off the bench and stood up also, moving over to help him put away the dish when he rinsed it off briskly in the sink, "Do I need to pack? I can't just go with the clothes on my back." He tried to insist, they should really take their time and plan this out more, there were no immediate threats yet. He couldn't just up and leave for Russia without telling  _anyone_ , that was setting them up for disaster. His side bumped lightly against Bucky's when he turned to face him, "We can't spare an hour longer?"

"No," The Asset said, and to have the power to dictate things was... empowering. It was rather-- yes. He liked not feeling restrained like that. He didn't acknowledge touching Steve as he started towards the front door. "Pack as many bags as you want. I need to go get my things, I won't be more than ten minutes. You... Tell people need-to-know if you want. The less people who know the safer we will be." He reminded, though, and he was only a little bit uncomfortable calling the shots with his handler. For the good of both of them... This was for the best. He looked over his shoulder, limping to the curtain and shutting it. He should have done that as soon as he came in. "The car or bike needs to be ready, do you understand?" He asked, pursing his lips a little bit. 

Steve ducked his head down once more, "Yeah, I understand." He said loud enough for the other to hear as he watched him shut the curtains tightly. His tone stern as he spoke to Steve made him immediately listen, despite wanting to stay here for as long as they could before they had to retreat. He probably wasn't going to pack much, anything he really needed he could purchase once they were in Russia. He shifted his weight once more, brows furrowed a bit; he was almost embarrassed that Bucky still had this authoritative vice on him after all this time. He moved from his spot in the kitchen to get a little closer to the other, "Do I need anything?" He wasn't sure if there was anything in particular he would need aside from his passport and phone. "How long will we be gone?" He knew he might have been asking too many questions, but Bucky wasn't answering any of them.

The Asset walked to the front door and he was stopped by Steve's question. Direct question... Must-- reply... "You need warm clothes," he said, turning and looking over his shoulder, hand on the doorknob. "We will be gone for as long as we need to be. As long as you're not safe here." He inhaled a little bit, and even though Steve wasn't smiling, even though Steve looked almost a little upset, he gave a smile, small, just a twitch of his lips. "I won't be more than ten minutes, and then we can leave and we can be safe." He offered a short nod, and then the door was open, he was stepping through it, and then he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

He felt a little more of a sense of relief when he say the smile that flickered across Bucky's expression, his own features softening as he watched him open the door, "Be safe." It slipped, he knew that he'd be right back but seeing him walk through that door was almost as hard as seeing him again for the first time. He offered his own smile, waiting for him to be out the door completely before he turned on his heel to start making his way to his bedroom in the back. Warm clothes. He could do that. Once in his bedroom, he pulled down one of his larger suitcases from the top shelf in his closet before laying it out open on top of his bed, this would be large enough, he hoped. He began haphazardly stuffing a good portion of his winter clothing, extra socks, underwear and whatever he say laying around that he thought he might need if there was a possibility he couldn't get it there. The suitcase was stuffed by the time he was finished, he had to drag it to the floor and sit down on top of it to compress it enough that he was able to zip it shut all the way around. He sat there for a few minutes longer, giving his bedroom a once-over, a small frown formed on his lips-- had it already been ten minutes?

The Asset had to step over the little blood stain on the front door step and cross the road again-- the asphalt was cool on his feet but wasn't too bad-- sneak through the bushes and be careful not to make a noise, break into the neighbors unused garden shed, to get to where he'd been living for the past week. The amount of times he'd had to drop down and avoid himself being seen as the old man toddled around in his garden were ridiculous, but the Asset hadn't killed him for seeing too much and the inconvenience was no trouble. He was careful as the door swung open, if there was pressure on it, it creaked pretty loudly, and the old man had a happy little dog who could wake the neighborhood if it tried. He got into the shed and brushed past disused, ancient gardening equipment to get his duffle bag, full of all his weapons, disposable cash he'd stolen from multiple ATMs, and multiple phones. He checked it over, found the second jacket he hadn't worn because the first had been fine, and he folded that up carefully over his arm. He snuck back out of the shed, and closed it softly behind him, looking to the big tidy house and nodding to himself, before going back across the road and going back into Steve's home. He went to the kitchen bench-- he wanted to check everything over, and heard Steve bustling upstairs so didn't want to interrupt. He started setting out the weapons on the bench to check them, his sniper, multiple pistols, grenades, knives, a rifle that wasn't assembled, a packet of pills that could do lots of things, a mini torture kit but that was closed up and simply looked like a little case-- everything looked alright, and he got the other little bag of money and opened it just to check... Good. Right. The next thing he did was get one of his phones and dial his contact, talking to him softly and lowly in Russian to organize everything. It was going to work out, this guy was for the money he could earn, and the Asset had that money. It seemed to be working out alright.

Steve sat for a moment longer before hefting himself up from on top of the suitcase, glancing down at himself in the process. Now would be the best time to change out of the dirtied clothing he still wore. Stripped down quickly to his underwear, he went to his closet and grabbed a sweatshirt from a hanger and yanked in on before grabbing a pair of comfortable jeans and pulling those up over hips as well. Something discreet and comfortable would be best. Closing the closet door behind him, he disposed of the dirty clothing in the laundry hamper despite the fact that he wouldn't be back for some time to even get his laundry done, that felt almost sad to him. Brushing that thought off quickly, he reached down to grab the handle of his suitcase and carefully began making his way down the stairs, "Bucky?" He called out, small furrow formed between his brows; he had to be back by now, he promised. He sat the suitcase down beside the door when he heard soft quiet mumbling he couldn't quite make out coming from the kitchen, "Buck?" He tried again, stepping around the couch and slowly made his way towards the kitchen.

The Asset found it easy to reply to the Captain when he heard the man calling out to him, he excused himself for a moment with his contact and covered the receiver, saying, "I'm here Steve," with a lilt of a Russian accent before going back to his quick, clipped conversation in the mother tongue. It was easier, and he was leaned against the bench almost casually with all his weapons laid out. The curtains were closed so no one could look inside, he didn't need to be worried about it. He looked up when Steve entered the room and gave him a quick nod, finishing his conversation by telling the man to get the plane ready and be prepared to take off as soon as they got there. "Ready to leave?" He asked, trying to slip back into neutral toned but his accent was there from just talking before and he easily started packing the duffel bag again, movements quick, precise and practiced.

Steve immediately took note of the change in accent lilting his tone as he spoke, he stepped into the kitchen and stood in the threshold separating it from the hallway. He waited patiently for him to finish his phone call before offering him a small smile, "Yeah, I'm ready." He wasn't going to ask about the phone call or when he had learned Russian. "I've got my bag packed. Warm clothes and everything." He tried to alleviate the tense atmosphere with a softened expression, his eyes tracking the precise movements of Bucky packing away the assorted weapons on top of the table. He swallowed thickly, averting his eyes so he wasn't caught staring, "How are you feeling?"

The Asset paused and looked to the Captain, taking a moment to do an internal calculation, and it seemed that just having purpose and being patched up was helping him feel better. "Twenty six percent," he stated, and he shoved a holster around his hips-- all the big weapons were packed away but hidden under his loose shirt and his pants he was putting together knives, and a few flash grenades and two guns. He pulled his jacket on then, dark black and heavy, to conceal them even more. He kept the bag of money out, zipped up the duffle and looked around. "Is there anything else you want to do?" He asked, shouldering the bag even though the weight aggravated his wounds slightly, glancing at Steve and his grey blue eyes were almost alight, the anticipation having his blood thrumming through his veins.

Steve gave a small hum in thought before considering, "Is there anything else that we  _need_  to do before we head out?" He gave Bucky a once-over and noticed the holster on his hip, concealed by the hem of the thick jacket he had put on. He shifted his own weight and glanced down at his outfit, "Should I go change, is this too casual?" He figured it would be best if he attempted to dress so that he wouldn't stand out. He took a few steps forward to reach out and adjust the front of Bucky's jacket so that it looked less rumpled before moving a hand up to tuck a few stray strands of hair from his cheek behind his ear, "You really do clean up nicely, Buck." He said a bit offhandedly, a polite smile forming on his lips. The man in front of him looked almost worlds away from when he had first seen him not even a few hours before hand.

The Asset stood with squared shoulders as Steve approached him, expression neutral, and he didn't flinch when the hair was brushed off his face, he mirrored the polite smile but it was almost robotic, polite in the fact that it was obedient. Though being told he looked nice was also praise, and he liked praise. He was a good boy. "No one will see you. It's a private air field." He looked down at his jacket, now straight and tidy, he looked Steve in the eye and felt his heart thud hard in his chest for a few moments. Interesting. "If you want to inform anyone where you're going so they don't worry and don't think you've been kidnapped, I would recommend you do so now," he pointed out, and looked Steve up and down. "You'll need to dispose of your phone after that. It may be bugged or have trackers." He brushed past the Captain to go to the front door, pausing and waiting. "Is the vehicle ready?"

He only sent out one message, and that was to Natasha, he trusted her the most on the team and relied on her to relay the message onto the others of his whereabouts. He passed it off as he needed to take some time off but said no more of who he will be going with; as far as they knew, he would be traveling alone. Once that was sent out he turned and followed Bucky out towards the front room, seeing him stand at the door he handed his phone over, "You'll have to drive, since you know where we'll be going." He felt anxious again, like maybe this wasn't the best choice; what if Bucky was leading him into enemy territory. Steve almost felt foolish at how easily he was following after him like a lost puppy-- like he was almost desperate to have anything close to what there use to be between them. He was setting himself up for failure. He swallowed thickly and side-stepped Bucky to stand next to his luggage, "Lead the way."

The Asset took the phone, opened the door and threw it into the bush in a casual throw, and he made sure it landed before turning to Steve and holding out his metal hand. "Keys to the vehicle." He gave himself a quick once over, he would be able to drive and keep them safe, if he took it slowly. He looked Steve up and down, and his tongue came out to touch his upper lip. "Are you afraid?" He asked, genuinely curious about why Steve was looking at him like that.

Steve blinked and then averted his eyes once more, "No, of course not." He shoved his hand into his jean's pocket to pull out his set of keys for the car to hand over to him. It was true, he wasn’t scared. Just worried. "I'm feeling a lot of things right now." He said instead, looking up and offering a meek smile before slipping on a pair of sneakers beside the door. He came back to stand next to his suitcase before grabbing the handle and nodding his head, "Do you have everything you needed?" He knew he was probably asking a pointless question, but he needed something to settle his stomach, he needed to know he was doing the right thing following Bucky.

The Asset clicked the car unlocked and the headlights flashed, he was still watching Steve though and judging him, analytical and making sure. "I'm going to keep you safe," he said with a sureness, and that was something he'd known from the start. When he'd gotten free, one face was sticking out to him. The mission. His mission. From the very beginning Captain Rogers had been the mission. The Asset stalked over the car and opened the trunk, his weapons immediately going in and then the money too, he set his arms out to take Steve's luggage too, grey eyes once more settled as he watched the blond. "I have everything I need once you get in the car," he said very seriously, packing Steve's bag in the trunk too, it was a nice sleek black car-- administered by SHIELD?-- and he had to pack it carefully, but it all managed to fit. "Get in the car Steve." He slammed the trunk shut and went over to the driver’s side and pulled open the door, planning to wait to get in himself until Steve was in the car and buckled in.

He couldn't help the tightening in the pit of his belly when he listened to Bucky speak,  _I have everything I need once you get in the car._  Color bloomed high on his cheek bones, "Okay, Bucky." He said softly, his pulse fluttering in his throat as he opened the passenger's side of the car and got inside, settling his weight in the comfortable leather seats before securing the seat-belt across his chest with an audible click. He turned his head to the side to watch Bucky get inside, a bit stiffly before he settled before he spoke again, "Don't forgot your seat belt."  His tone a bit chastising but there was an air of teasing to it, too. He wet his lips before focusing his attention outside the windshield, parting his lips debating whether to say anything else. He wanted to tell him that he'd keep him safe, too. No matter what. He wasn't able to before and he wanted to make everything up to him and more. He clasped his hands together in his lap, squeezing fingers to encourage circulation to his cold skin.

The Asset climbed in and nearly didn't put his seat belt on, he wasn't going to be driving dangerously enough for him to need it, but Steve reminded him, and he looked to the side, contemplating for a second before doing as he was asked. Steve was still ordering him. That was a safety net that he liked. The Captain didn't act cruel about it either, they almost sounded like requests... Easier to follow. He started the car up after looking at the dash and wheel, quickly deciding how the car ran, and he pulled out of the drive, not saying a word as he started driving through the suburbs. He didn't even need to think that much as he drove, it was almost instinct. A machine controlling a machine. He drove exactly on the speed limit, his turns were exactly smooth, and strangely enough, Steve had a stick-shift, which he operated cleanly and well, the shifting of the gears on their way out of the city barely noticeable. They were on the highway now, and he was 27%, which was surprising. He could keep them safe now. They were getting out of there.


	6. Chapter 6

There were hardly any cars out this late, just the few stragglers that were out or coming home from a graveyard shift at work. The silence and soothing lull of the engine had Steve with his head resting back against the seat with half-leaded eyes, it had to be close to three in the morning by now, the car warm inside making him yawn softly. He swallowed before letting his head roll to the side and take in Bucky's profile as he focused straight ahead with both hands on the steering wheel, he bit his lower lip before speaking, "I missed you, Bucky." He started out, his voice hardly above a whisper, his brows furrowing trying to think of where exactly this was going. He was being silly. He inhaled through his nose before continuing, "I'm going to keep you safe too, ya' know?" It was more of a statement than a question, he didn't need Bucky to respond back to it, he just needed to get it out there so it wasn't settling so heavy in the pit of is stomach. He pursed his lips in thought before letting a soft smile pull at his lips, turning his head away to look out the passenger-side window before he could watch to see the other's reaction.

It was nice to have the warmth around him, the car heater pumping away even though it was summer, it was a regulated temperature all around him, and it was lucky the Asset was comfortable in the cold, he could keep himself awake and aware in this environment. He was comfortable with Steve resting next to him too, Steve needed to rest and keep himself safe. He felt when he was being watched, and the side of his mouth that wasn't shown to the Captain quirked up just a little bit. His words though made his brow furrow just a little bit. A machine was missed? How queer. "I'll keep us both safe," he replied. "You don't need to... worry." He was frowning now, glancing at the road signs. He didn't know worry very well, but he knew that Steve trying to keep him safe too was unnecessary exertion. 

The smile still in place, "I'm not worried, I have you, don't I?" He felt a little embarrassed for being so open about saying something so sappy, "You've always kept me safe, Buck." He said easily, not just now but before the war, before all of this. Steve couldn't even count on one hand how many times he had woken up to Bucky sitting on the small bed beside him, checking his temperature every so often and smoothing his hair back from his warm forehead when he got sick. He swallowed thickly, pushing the thought from his mind and focused his attention on the passing street-lights on the interstate that passed by quickly. He bit his lower lip, feeling his heart pick up speed once more, forcing himself to shut his eyes and rest his forehead against the window, his breath fogging the window.

"I'll always keep you safe," the Asset said once more, because that was what he did. He kept Captain Rogers safe. When he'd been given it as a mission it had stuck in his head and he hadn't been able to do it. He kept Steve Rogers safe, it was a part of his route code, and nothing could stop him from following that code. "Don't worry." The words felt foreign and weird coming off his tongue, because those words weren't ones used in his vocabulary for many years. "Except when you crashed the plane, I couldn't help you then." A lilt of irritation touched his tone without his permission, and he was frowning again, looking confused. He remembered how much it had hurt when his then-handler had shown him the newspaper. It had made him... hurt a lot. He remembered that. 

His dark eyes slid open when he heard that, "Bucky." He said softly, shifting his body enough in his seat to face him, immediately noting the sour expression that had settled on his face, the knuckles on his flesh hand turning white against the steering wheel with how harshly he was gripping it. He hesitantly reached his hand out to cup his palm over that hand lightly before squeezing it, the added friction warming his skin a bit, "None of that was your fault." he wanted to leave it there, his chest swelling at remembering back to that. Carefully he moved his hand down over the thick fabric covering his forearm, giving a light squeeze to the muscle there as well before finally resting his hand over his shoulder, "You're going to protect me." he said softly, "I'm going to protect you." The pad of his thumb rubbing over his shoulder, what he would give to ease the tension there; he made a move to take his hand away.

The Asset was looking out the front window resolutely, grey eyes firm and slightly hardened. Steve touching him was welcomed though, and almost without his permission his knuckles on the steering wheel relaxed a little bit, the metal hand too, which was good because the wheel was creaking a little with the pressure. He rolled his shoulder a little bit and looked at Steve from the corner of his eye. He turned abruptly down a side road, having left the highway and going further into the country side. He'd been lucky to find this air field, remote but easily accessible. "Don't crash anymore planes," he said sternly, and for the first time since being with the Captain an almost Brooklyn lilt came into his words.

Steve eyes rounded as he heard a hint of an accent that felt so much like home, his chest warmed, "I can't promise anything." He said with a small laugh before settling back into his seat, glancing out the window to see unfamiliardarkness, but he trusted Bucky to get them to their location safely. He relaxed against the leather, letting his shoulders sag a bit the night's events finally catching up with him. He didn't even want to see how late it was or how quickly things were happening. His eyes had begun to draw half-lidded, the warmth of the car seeping into his loosened muscles. "How much longer?" He asked, voice soft.

The Asset took another turn, and was going to the air field now, a dark black jet already at the end of the runway, the brunet parked quickly, not wanting to leave his contacts waiting too much longer. "Come, Steve," he said softly, undoing his belt and unlocking the doors. He reached out and touched Steve too, lightly on his shoulder to hopefully rouse him a little more. He didn't know how he knew how to do this so smoothly and softly, because softness wasn't something he used about himself, but it seemed to be another thing Steve brought out in him. There were no towers here, how this place hadn't been shut down yet the Asset was unsure, but he was glad that it hadn't been. It had been the only way he'd been able to follow Steve on his missions out of America. "Only one hundred metres to the plane. Then you can rest while we fly." 

He opened his eyes more, biting back a yawn when he felt a hand smooth over his shoulder warm and gentle, he turned his head to the side to see Bucky leaning over the console in between them trying to rouse him from falling asleep. " 'M awake." He murmured and shifted in his seat to sit up more, leaning into the hand while he glanced outside the window, taking in the blank plane stationed no too far away from where they were parked. "You've got to rest too, promise." His voice was hoarse with impending sleep, and he unbuckled his seat belt and moved to open the passenger door, "We've got to get you to one-hundred percent," he teased lightly pushing the door open and slipping out of the car on wobbly knees.

Steve's last sentence made him smirk a little bit, the air hostesses were already coming over to help with bags, he opened the trunk of the car and took the duffel of weapons and the money but let them take Steve's suitcase, he briefly spoke to them in Russian and then he was immediately by Steve's side, watching the way he was almost stumbling around the runway towards the plane and he didn't hesitate to slide an arm around the blond's waist and take some of his weight. He was tall and warm and quite heavy, but it was nothing his metal arm couldn't handle. One hundred percent, what an interesting notion. He couldn't remember the last time he had been at one hundred percent. They got to the plane and the Asset guided Steve up them too, gaze watching every one of his footsteps until he was in the cabin. It was a nice interior, leathers and soft floors and big spaces, he'd got a good deal finding this man who only dealt with thugs or the very über rich. He led Steve to the closest seat and waited until he was sat in it, grey eyes like a hawks. "Are you ready to leave?" He asked, the two hostesses bustling around to prepare the cabin.

Steve's breath had hitched when he felt a solid weight settle around his waist, keeping him upright and steady. He leaned into Bucky's side more than was probably necessary, but somehow the contact was grounding to his senses. He let him lead them to the set of steps that led up into the plane's cabin, the air hostesses speaking to each other in what he had assumed was Russian as they flitted around the surprisingly spacious area to get things ready.  He was guided to a plush looking couch, shoved lightly to sit down as he stepped forward; almost instantly missing the contact of Bucky's arm around his middle. He adjusted himself and gratefully leaned back against the butter leather seats, "I'd go anywhere you want me to, if it meant it had these seats." He groaned softly in response, letting his head tilt back and eyes slide shut; he felt boneless with his throat exposed, sinking into the cushions.

The Asset watched as Steve settled in, his eyes trailing over Steve's form just briefly, he didn't know why, when he gave a short nod and a small grunt of acknowledgement. Then he was turning away to go to the cockpit, he needed to pay the pilot and copilot their sums to ensure they got to their destination safely, and then he'd pay another lot once they'd landed. It was something they'd set up quite early on, and they stuck to their fees too, they'd seen the Asset on one of his first flights, covered in blood, his own and others, cut and torn up and still menacing. They didn't want to cross him. So he paid the pilot his fees, to distribute between his crew too, he was a surprisingly honest man, with kind eyes, despite the business he worked in. Bucky took a liking to him even though he didn't know his name. When he'd paid he nodded just as the cabin was being set up, and he went to a seat opposite Steve, he stowed away his bags under the chair and chatted with one of the hostesses almost in a friendly way-- he had a demeanor about him that suggested it was fake, but he was smiling easily as he lied about Steve and himself, just wanting them to feel safe (ish) while on the flight with them. They went to go do their own thing, it was a ten hour flight so that was a good length of time for Steve to sleep. The plane began to start purring as it started, and the Asset looked over to the blond. "Sleep now, Steve. I will make sure we are safe."

Steve focused in and out of consciousness as he listened to Bucky speak to one of the Hostesses in Russian, letting the clipped baritone rasp against his senses. He had made himself comfortable in the seat, his arms crossed loosely against his stomach and letting the thrum of the plane engine relax his muscles. He blinked when he realized that Bucky was speaking to him now, ducking his chin down towards his sternum, "You need to sleep too, Bucky." He croaked out, glassy blue eyes focused on him with what he had hoped was a frown, but with the way his full lips had pursed he thought differently. He stretched his legs out across the aisle between them, having already disposed of his shoes while Bucky was away in the cockpit, his socked foot toed at Bucky’s booted one. Reminiscent of how he was moving his feet underneath the table in his kitchen.

The Asset smiled softly at Steve reaching out to touch him once more, stretching out like he was, and once more he was confused as to why Steve had such an affinity with it. It wasn't even needed, it was just... Superfluous, and yet it had the Asset smiling. Smiling. Not even because he was being praised. "One of us needs to be on guard," he said quietly, not even blinking as the plane got off the ground and his stomach somewhat dropped out from underneath him. "I can get you a blanket if you need it," he said, perking up to see if one of the hostesses were free, but before he gestured to them he wanted to be sure Steve wanted one. "Or would you like something to eat first? You didn't eat anything at home." That had him frowning a little more. "You should eat something." 

Steve's stomach fluttered as the expression on Bucky's face softened, keeping his foot where it was pressed against the side of his ankle; enjoying the contact. "I can get it." He sat up a bit and gestured to one of the women, handing him a throw blanket that he placed folded against his lap with a small smile of appreciation and a nod of his head. He settled back into his seat before he thought and patted the space next to him, looking at Bucky with an expectant look. "I'm not hungry, really." He said as an afterthought, he had not eaten since earlier that afternoon, noodles still abandoned on the kitchen counter of his equally abandoned apartment now. He noticed the look of disappointment on the others face as he said this, "Really, Buck." He tried again, feeling a wave of dejavu hit him, thinking back to times when Bucky had to practically force feed him something when he couldn’t keep anything down.

The Asset was glad that the woman had some sort of initiative, and he watched as Steve sat back down, grey eyes impassive, but soft. Up in the air they were a lot safer, away from people who could hurt them. And the plane wasn't traced, it had its own private air space. No one would know who was on it or where it was going. It was a sense of suspended time. He saw the pat and the look and he stood obediently, coming over and sitting on the far end of the seat, leaving a little space between them because Steve hadn't insinuated that he'd wanted to be touched. "You're eating when we've landed," he said, using the tone he had to get Steve to leave the apartment, and while it felt awkward leaving his throat at least he could do it and not feel as if he were about to be hit.

Steve smiled a little while he watched Bucky stand and move across the aisle separating them and sit down on the couch, a full cushion's space between them. He shifted a bit to scoot a little closer, unfolding the blanket so he could spread it out across their laps; sharing space like this wouldn't be that out of place, would it? He didn't think much more on it as he relaxed against the leather seat once more with a soft groan. He tensed a bit when the same authoritative tone underlined Bucky's words as he spoke, "Yes, Sir." He said in a bit of a mock tone but there was no real heat behind it, he would eat when they landed, despite his stomach giving protest. The lights inside the cabin had been dimmed so it would be easier to drift off, but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to be the only one getting sleep.

That made the Asset's eyes widen a little bit, confused at the words Steve had just said, and the fact that he had a blanket on too made him frown suddenly. "I'm not Sir," he said after a long while of thinking, and he turned to look at Steve, who was dozing. The Asset shuffled closer to him, the space getting even smaller between them. "Steve, I'm not Sir." 

Steve's eyes were sliding shut when he felt the cushions between them dip with the weight of Bucky moving closer into his space, their sides pressed flush together. This caused his head to lull to the side and rest his cheek lightly against his shoulder, he hummed in response, not fully processing what he was saying. "You're Bucky." He said hardly above a whisper. "Do you not like being called Sir?" He asked this while peeking up at him with half-lidded eyes, he had only been teasing him but he wanted to know if he may had crossed a line and made him uncomfortable.

The Asset agreed with that, and he didn't even notice Steve leaning against him. "You're Sir. The Handler," he said, and hadn't he already clarified this? Sure, the lines had been blurred a bit, Steve listening to the Asset's requests and the Asset crossing lines and breaking rules like initiating contact or waking up the handler. He wasn't Bucky either, and he'd said that too at some point, even though the Captain insisted on calling him Bucky and the Asset could deal with that. "Why would you call me Sir when I should call you Sir?" 

"Handler?" His brows furrowed as he repeated the word. He sat up a little, still pressed against Bucky's side, "I'm not your handler, I'm your-" He paused for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. "I'm your Steve. Your friend. I don't want you to call me Sir, you're your own person." He trailed off, voice sleep-thick as he tried to assess his thoughts, this probably made no sense to him. He was still aware of what mind set Bucky was in and the way Steve had been treating the situation like there wasn't an elephant in the room, probably wasn't fair to the other as well. He wet his lips before hesitantly resting his head back against his shoulder, "You're Bucky, my best guy." He murmured loud enough for the other to hear, his eyes averted and focusing on his hands rested on top of the blanket across his lap.

 _Own person, your Steve, best guy_... The Asset was shaking his head, eyes wide, and he was looking down to Steve's hands as well, taking slow breaths to calm his suddenly erratic heartbeat. Steve was sleepy, tired, he didn't know what he was saying. But those words were bouncing around his head and they made him feel a little sick. So many things he dare not contemplate, laid out in front of him on a dish. "I haven't been Bucky since you crashed the plane," he remembers aloud, brow pulled hard into a frown. That's when they broke him, when that part of him decided that without Steve there was no need to fight to live, only the need to fight to survive. "I can't have any friends and I can't be anyone's best guy." He was spitting this off quickly, his words mixing a little bit with the speed he said them. "I'm a machine." He flexed his metal hand a little bit, right next to Steve's hand so the contrast was obvious.

He could feel his throat tighten with the words that were hissed between clenched teeth, noticing that Bucky’s muscles had tensed underneath Steve's head. His breath caught when he heard a whirr of mechanical joints working and flexing next to his hand, he hadn't even noticed that he had been presses against Bucky's left side. He paused for a moment before reaching his right hand out more and slowly, carefully slid it against his palm before loosely intertwining their fingers. Bucky could have easily crushed his hand but Steve squeezed gently despite that, feeling his warmth seeping against the hard surface. "Every last bit of you is Bucky Barnes." He whispered softly.

The Asset... Bucky? The Asset made a small noise of distress in the back of his throat, turning his head and shaking it even though Steve wasn't looking at him. Bucky-- Bucky? He took a deep breath in, and he was shaking now, unable to show his stress any other way. He could feel the pressure of Steve's hand on his own, no warmth, no actual feeling, just the pressure, and he swallowed. Steve was heavy against him but he didn't notice that, rocking minimally back and forth to try and ground himself, the most composed freaking out there had ever been. Bucky? How was he still Bucky?

He flinched when the fingers that were curled with his gripped tight suddenly, his breath hitching but keeping his hand in place against his. "Buc--" He trailed of when he sat up a little to get a better look at the other's face, his eyes widened when he took in the panicked look flickering across his expression. He turned to his side to be able to face the brunet better, reaching his free hand, his left hand, out to cup the side of Bucky's face and turn it towards him, getting him to focus his eyes with his own rounded blue ones. "Hey, hey Buck." He spoke softly, trying to keep his own worry out of his tone as he spoke, "You're okay. Breathe." He instructed carefully, taking his own deep inhale through the nose to get him to focus and follow his lead, offering a small reassuring smile when he breathed in also, mimicking him. "You're okay," he repeated, fingers curling tighter around Bucky's.

Buck. Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. BuckBuckyJames Buckybuckybucky-- he took a huge deep breath in, grey eyes fixing on Steve and focusing hard, searching those irises. Steve against him, Steve's hand on his face, Steve's hand holding a hand that--  _every part of you is Bucky_ \-- he grit his jaw and his breath caught again, he was shaking still. He could hear the hostesses from their own little cabin, watching them, but he couldn't think about that. Steve, Steve was grounding him. "No," he choked out, shutting his eyes quickly and turning his head to the side, because he wasn't going to show his weakness off. He relaxed his left hand, his face was pressed hard into Steve's palm now, and a hot tear escaped the corner of his eye and ran down his cheek and over the other's hand... He was holding his breath now. Back to 25%, maybe less.

A suffocating air enveloped them as Bucky croaked out an internal protest and jerked his head to the side. He felt the fingers tightening around his own and not letting go were reassuring in a sense. Slowly Steve ducked is head forward, the close contact had always helped him get out of panics like this and prevent him from hyperventilating, but he quickly realized that this may be something more to Bucky.  He brushed dry lips against his cheek, whispering softly, "You're okay. It's okay." He continued to whisper softly against his warm skin, nosing against a sideburn, "Bucky." His breath hitched, voice cracking as he felt his own eyes sting and his chest begin to swell. He was almost thankful that the light have been dimmed, the blankets heat almost becoming overwhelming.

Another noise of conflict from his throat. Bucky. There it was again, and he couldn't even think properly. So long a machine, so long nothing more than a dog, the hand behind the trigger, the blood, the teeth and the claws, and now Steve was next to him, whispering pointless things into his skin, so close he felt like he was burning. The knives were still near his skin, the guns had shifted a little to dig uncomfortably in his wounds and his sides. "No," he huffed out, almost a sob. "No it's not." A machine turned man... or was it the other way around? And now Steve was nearly crying next to him... He felt so overwhelmed... All of Steve's touch was kind and didn't hurt, the only hurt came from the inside. "Stevie it's not." The nickname that had once been said whenever he could integrate it, now something that seemed new and he couldn't think. How could he accept this comfort? How could he?

His own whimper escaped the back of his throat when he heard the familiar endearment rasped out. His chest clenched and stomach flipped uncomfortably at how hopeless he felt that he couldn't just make the pain go away, he couldn't do anything but squeeze Bucky closer to his side. The hand cupping his wet cheek moved back to comb finger through thick hair and scratch lightly at his scalp, "Bucky." He croaked out like a broken record, that's all he could think about--process. Bucky here with him, he was in pain and there was nothing Steve could do. He pressed chaste kisses against his cheek before pressing his forehead against his temple, cradling his head close; he refused to let go of his hand.

He liked the cold, the cold he could cope with. This aching, this pain, this touch was warm, too warm, too hot, and he didn't know why he was accepting it. Cold brought sleep, could brought-- sickness and worry. It brought coughing and sniffles and wheezing-- sleep--  _gotta make it through the winter Stevie, stay with me Steve, c'mon, spring'll be real pretty to draw, you gotta make it_ \-- warm was good. Warm might mean dust and wheezing, but the fevers only happened in the cold and warm was so much better. So he was rocking again, small and barely a movement, but it was constant, his eyes were still shut, Steve was kissing him and that was good--  _Yeah, god, Stevie fuck-- Steve just like that oh_ \-- he winced and tensed before relaxing again, tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing. BuckyBuckyBucky-- "Bucky," he whispered out, brow pulled tight, copying Steve. "Bucky." 

Hot tears were flowing steadily down his cheeks now as he brought Bucky close, shifting himself to accommodate Bucky's weight fully against him, he wasn't small anymore but the heft of him pushed and leaning against him was suffocating in the best way. He moved his hands away to wrap his arms fully around Bucky's broad shoulders, bring him closer. "Bucky." He croaked once more, voice cracking as he pressed another kiss against his temple before brushing his lips against the crown of his head. "Don't leave me." He was stumbling over his own words now, sounding pathetic and broken, his heart beating erratically against his ribs. He couldn't process fully what was happening at rapid-fire speed; tugging Bucky closer by the fingers curling tightly into the thick fabric of his jacket.

And then he was pulling his metal hand into his chest, doing exactly as Steve asked, he pushed his entire weight into Steve and curled into the blond's chest, body trembling-- He was aching through and through-- 20%-- and he was clutching at Steve's sweatshirt with both hands, hiding from the hurt in Steve's broad chest. Letting him take some of that pain, feeding off his stability in a way, his shoulders heaved with a huge sob, head tucked under Steve's chin. He was tired, he was so tired, he was so so tired-- he was trying to curl up on Steve's lap, trying to get as close as he could, this was nice touch, this was good touch, this was very good touch that helped, and his next sob crawled up his throat and tore at it. Once he was on Steve's lap, he was pulling hopelessly at the blanket, he wanted to protect himself from that side too, he wanted-- he didn't know but what he was working towards seemed to do. A nest with Steve as the main comfort feature to stop his shaking, to stop it hurting, to protect him.

Bucky was pulling himself into his lap and holding him down with solid weight, thick muscled thighs caging in his own knees to keep him in place. His was pressed fully against the back rest of the couch cushions, letting his head fall back as Bucky nestled against his sternum, breath hot and ragged against his exposed throat. He felt Bucky shift and yank the blanket around his shoulder, effectively covering them both in warmth. His breath came out in soft hitched sobs.

When he was sure Steve wasn't going to try and push him away, he shifted so instead of caging him with his legs and flopped heavily onto his side, his shoulders pressed into Steve but also the arm rest of the couch. He pulled the blanket up, and his own hiccupping breaths were calming down with the more darkness provided by his head and shoulders being hidden. Steve was behind him, and the brunet shifted and shuffled, until his head was Steve's lap, his entire top half hidden under the blanket, his knees tucked up to his chest, and he was clutching Steve's wrist with his flesh hand like it was a life line. He was staring at the darkness, eyes wet and scratching, but at least now he was safe. He was still shaking a little bit with his breaths, but otherwise calm and silent. He wanted to sleep like this. Was he allowed to sleep? Being upset like that was exhausting... 18%. 

Steve sat still as Bucky adjusted himself on the couch before finally settling with his head in on top of his lap, deflating visibly and becoming want compact weight against him. Carefully he moved his hands down to begin threading them through thick locks of Bucky's hair, he had already removed to elastic that was keeping it pulled back when he first began moving his fingers through it. "Do you want to sleep, Bucky?" His voice soft, trying to soothe him despite his own voice still being thick with tears and hoarse. A smile pulled at his lips when Bucky's flesh hand enveloped his right and squeezed it close to his face, he could feel his hitched breaths puffing against it; he continued to rub at his scalp firmly with his left. "You can sleep, Bucky. No one is stopping you." He said again, hardly above a whisper, but he knew the other man could hear him, "I want my best guy to be at one-hundred percent."

The hand in his hair was far more soothing than he would've thought it to be, and pressed back into it, Steve's hand by his face another anchor point too. And Steve was talking to him, saying it was okay to sleep, but he wasn't sure it was. Steve still sounded upset, and that went against the mission-- there were other people on this plane and he didn't trust anyone else here but Steve. So he waited a few more moments, wondering about 100%, and he pulled Steve's hand closer, to his lips, and he brushed them across Steve's pulse point, feeling the careful throb over dry lips, not cracked but not supple. He didn't know where the action came from, but... It felt right. With his left hand he shuffled around his waist to undo his weapons belt, and he shoved it to the floor without thinking much, just wanting it off, and when it was... The darkness cradled him. Steve's hand cradled him. "Keep us safe," he murmured, a soft plead that he didn't know he needed. He wanted to sleep in the warm that was good, and he wanted to wake up from it too. "Keep us..." He trailed off in a little slur, eyes flicking closed as the exhaustion finally crept up to him and dragged him under into his dreams, lips still to Steve's hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a short one but important stuff happens so you'll have to bare with!!! xoxox

His breath caught when he felt chapped lips brush against the inside of his wrist, his breath hot against the thin skin as he spoke, "I'll keep us safe." He answered quickly, smoothing his hair down before scraping blunt nails lightly behind his ear, "I'll keep you safe no matter what, Bucky." He was able to duck his head down enough so that he could press a chaste kiss against his temple, trailing lips over his strong brow and pecking there as well. He could hear the quiet snore rattle his chest, folded in on himself and keeping a firm grip on Steve's wrist. He pushed the hair back from his cheek and let his own head rest back against the couch cushions, their combined warmth seeping into his very being--he needed to stay awake. He had to keep watch over Bucky and keep him safe.

_”God, why the hell did you do it this time?" Bucky asked as he walked through the door, and Steve was pouting with his black eye and split lip-- his day at work had been shit and now he had to come home to chide an adult man on his fighting ways. It was ridiculous, honestly. "Fuck, Steve, c'mere," he said, and opened his eyes wide to welcome the small blond into a little hug, and he kissed the top of his duck fluff hair, tenderly. Softly, a hand running up and down his roommates bony back. He could promise more, but... Not today. They'd both been over the rocks. "Let's get you patched up huh, punk?"_

Bucky shifted, an hour and a half into his rest, his dreams bringing him back to himself. He hadn't slept comfortably in the warm for so long, his dreams had never been this vivid. "Stevie," he mumbled, lips dragging over Steve's skin, familiar, home. Steve. 35%, if he thought about it, his body working hard to fix itself while it had the chance, his aches getting smaller already. His breath was stale now under the blanket, but that was okay. He'd been subjected to worse.

Steve hummed when he heard Bucky murmur against his wrist, lips brushing against his pulse-point, "Bucky?" His eyes slid open from where he was dozing off lightly with his head rested back. He had only been fading in and out of consciousness for the past thirty minutes while Bucky was pressed against his lap, snoring lightly. The fingers on his left hand began smoothing though the thick hair out of reflex to coming back to reality, "You awake?" He wet his lips, ducking his head down to press a kiss against his temple before sitting back up straight, letting his back arch a bit to work out the creaks. "You didn't sleep very long."

Bucky uncurled a little bit, taking up a whole lot of space on the couch now fully, shifting and grunting a little bit, his free hand brushing over Steve's hand to scratch his face. "Ain't got work today Rogers," he mumbled softly, though he was slightly confused with his own voice, confused with what he was feeling and also too tired to worry, still half asleep. He was still half in his dream, turning his head to the side and pouting his lips a little bit, like he was searching for that kiss again but not for his head. "I'm still asleep, but if you wanna smooch I won't complain..." Bucky. Bucky... The Asset? No. Stevie, Steve was with him and he was Bucky.

His heart fluttered hearing that all too familiar accent lilt Bucky's smooth baritone, "Buc--" He trailed off hearing the next few words rasped from his lap as Bucky cat-stretched across the length of the couch with an exaggerated groan. He bit his lip trying to process what exactly was going on-- This was Bucky.  _His Bucky._  A pained expression flickered across his features before speaking, "Come on, Buck. There's only one lazy bones around here." He said with a light mocking tone, his expression softening.  _Smooch?_  He blinked, his hand stilling in the thick hair beginning to curl at the ends, "You're spoiled." He whispered, hesitantly slightly before he leaned down enough to press a quick kiss that lingered a bit against the corner of his puckered lips.

Bucky giggled in his sleepy stupor at Steve's words, he was always so funny and cute, and the kiss had his stomach flipping over and over, and he pressed up to it for a bit before falling back onto Steve's lap. "Warm day t'day squirt," he said, pulling down the blanket a little bit and bunching the blanket around his chest now, grey eyes not visible under his sporadically fluttering eyelashes, still dreaming. "Ain't spoiled though," he rumbled, rolling away from Steve again to be comfortable again, and he pressed his head into Steve's hand to prompt him into moving his hand again. "We're dirt poor sugar."

Steve found himself licking at his lips, finding the taste of Bucky lingering on his chapped lips feeling his chest clench painfully as he continued to slur out the teasing endearments. He could feel his eyes begin to sting and water from the overwhelming swell in his stomach, this wasn't fair. He could see the way his eyelashes fluttered and took it that he was either still waking up or just talking in his sleep.  _This wasn't fair._  He bit his lower lip to bite back the soft whine from escaping, his brows furrowing. "You  _are_  spoiled, Buck. Doing whatever you want." His voice cracked as he spoke, "You better wake up soon or you're gonna' get replaced down at the docks." He chastised, digging blunt nails loosely against his dry scalp, "Wake up, Bucky."

Bucky grumbled a little bit and smacked his lips, letting go of Steve's wrist to bring it up and stroke over Steve's face clumsily, over his eyes and nose and lips. "I'm the bes' worker they got." His flesh hand settled on Steve's chest, and he smiled dazedly, eyes opening for a second and his pupils contracted before they flicked shut again, he huffed and rolled again, nearly falling off the couch, somehow not, he was huffing little sleeping breaths again, taking up as much space as he was able, arms everywhere and legs spread out too. 42% and rising, his sleeping so good for him, helping his wounds finally heal after so long of being exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> faaaaannnnaaaaarrrrt its so cute look look look my pal is so talented
> 
> http://dontbecooler.tumblr.com/post/144693149897/fearlessonmybreath-story-this-is-based-off-here


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it really has been a long time!!! I'm so sorry ive been so slack, please comment or somehow harass me if you want me to update more consistently, I'm never sure if people are reading and enjoying but thanks to my pal Sarah (thats a great name btw its mine haha) I have updated!! Woo!
> 
> This is a menial little chapter where Steve is a frigid little child and Bucky is actually a mother goose
> 
> ENJOY XX

His breath hitched in the back of his throat when he felt the calloused press of Bucky's palm slide over each feature of his face clumsily before it fell away back into his lap, "You are the best worker." He didn't know what to say at this point-- he would agree with anything he said at this point if it kept him wavering between this sleepy mind set and confusion. He moved the hand that was previously clutched away to cup the side of Bucky's face, "Are we going to have a lazy Sunday in, Buck?" He let his accent filter thickly through his speech, combing fingers of his free hand through his tangled locks, "My best guy deserves that one-hundred percent." His voice cracked once more, bottom lip quivering before forming a meek smile, blue eyes misty.

He slept for as long he was able, not eating and not realizing if he was moving. If Steve had got up at any point, if he'd fallen off the couch onto the floor, if the plane had been crashing, he would've still slept through it. He mumbled a fair bit, shifting around and shuffling and scratching his face often, trying to sort out his mind. He was finally woken though when he felt his shoulder been touched a bit more firmly, and his eyes snapped open, pupils contracting quickly, breath hitching in his throat, and immediately his brow was pulling together and he wanted to sit up, slightly disorientated and still aching, more from being so still than actual wounds. "Steve," fell off his lips, and he was shifting more, sitting up with his hair going every which way...

Bucky had fallen silent and remained that way aside from shifting or soft groaning with his hands gripping at Steve's sides or hands. Steve had slipped down further on the couch, head rested back against the couch cushions, his bladder was busting but he couldn't bring himself to wake or rustle the sleeping man on his lap. His fingers had begun to curl into the fabric of Bucky's jacket out of reflex but regretted it immediately when he had roused awake and beginning to sit up. "Sor-" He wanted to apologize, his voice thick with sleep and slurred, he paused taking in the state of Bucky's hair sticking up and knotted lightly in the back, a sleepy smile formed on his lips, "Hey, Bucky." Saying this softly, he willed himself to sit up straight despite the lack of sleep pulling at his sore muscles.

Bucky glanced to the windows, the blinds were shut and the lights were still dimmed, even though there was a soft light peeking out under a couple of the blinds that weren't closed properly. He looked at Steve for a moment, sitting up more properly so he wasn't laid all over him, and the blanket was curled and twisted in his lap, he looked Steve up and down and managed another soft smile. He felt exhausted still, he felt like he was wearing a mask that wasn't his... But in all honesty, it felt good. To have a name. Bucky. "Hi Steve," he said, turning a little bit and still feeling a little mechanical. He ran his flesh hand through his hair and started combing out the knots, it wasn't too hard since it was all clean, and he ducked his chin to his chest to yawn. 72%. What a queer feeling. He'd be able to take on the world if he was less... Dozy. "How long has it been?" He asked quietly, glancing around the cabin. The same as it had been when he'd fallen asleep... And yet somehow it felt different. Maybe he was different. The Asset? Or Bucky... Both. Was he both?

Steve had shifted enough on the seat so he was able to sit up straight, stretching his legs out in the aisle in front of him, hearing his joints crack dully from sitting in the same position for so long with a heavy weight rested on top of his thighs. He gave a soft groan as he arched his back a little, his sweatshirt riding up the front of his stomach with the stretch, "A few hours, I'm not sure." He answered a bit groggily- it had to have been at least four hours since they got on the plane, he mind was still muddled with sleep. He wet his lips before letting his shoulders slump forward and eyes begin to slide shut; he had still not gotten any proper sleep since sitting, but he'd sacrifice that if that meant Bucky was feeling a little more refreshed. "How are you feeling?" His voice soft as he spoke, sounding worlds away, his head lulling to the side to rest against his shoulder.

Bucky watched Steve in silence, rather than speaking, and he was frowning a little bit. Steve was too tired. "Do you need to do anything?" He asked, scooching over in the seat to straighten up Steve's body and leaned over to search the blond's expression. "Drink, bathroom, food?" All necessities to function, if they hadn't moved then Steve wouldn't have been able to do those things. "If you need, that first, then we can go back to resting." How he was feeling himself didn't matter, he was better and he could keep them safe, he could also sleep more.... He could keep watch perhaps-- the Russians wouldn't hurt him, he'd flown with them so many times... Without meaning to, Bucky started running his fingers through Steve's duck fluff hair, his flesh hand cradling the back of his head carefully. "You should eat something, then you can sleep for the rest of the flight."

Steve tried to simultaneously lean into the hand cradling the back of his head and the mechanical fingers combing through his tousled hair, " 'm not hungry, Buck." He mumbled under his breath, pale eyes sliding open to focus on the other's face, his bladder was threatening to burst but he hardly even wanted to get up at this point. He still didn't have an appetite at this point, his eyes flicking to look over Bucky's features; he knew he was being difficult but he didn't want to move from the other man's grasp. "I'll eat when we land." He reminded him of their deal they had when they first entered the plane, shifting his weight to fully sink against the back cushions of the couch.

"Are you thirsty?" Bucky asked immediately instead, taking the blanket from his lap and throwing it over the blond. "I'll get you some water," he said, and was standing quickly, before Steve could tell him no, to go to the kitchen at the end of the cabin, getting an ice cold glass of water-- he had one himself first just to settle his head a bit, and then he came back and sat carefully beside Steve, touching his shoulder again and looking at him expectantly. "Drink this, and then you can sleep," he said, taking Steve's wrist and tapping the rather large glass with Steve's fingers so he would realize there was something there for him to drink. "Steve, drink this," he insisted again, grey eyes serious.

A small frown formed on his lips when he felt the chill of the glass pressed against his fingertips, "I'm fine, Bucky." He tried to wave him off, but the glass was pressed firmly into his pal, forcing him to take hold of it before is spilled. His thighs were already some-what pressed together to keep his bladder at bay, he could probably hold it in until the plane landed but that wouldn't be a probability if he drank anything now. "I'm not thirsty, but thank you." He shifted enough to lean over to put it on the small table next to the couch, sitting back and giving him an apologetic smile, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep. "It won't be long before we land." He assured, taking the blanket to pull it up around his middle.

"It's still a few hours before we land," Bucky pointed out, and he was frowning and he wasn't very happy with this. Steve hadn't eaten or drunk anything since they'd left the house, no, before that, since Bucky had turned up, and that wasn't acceptable at all. He flicked his eyes over Steve, and he huffed his irritation, flicking his head quickly to get some hair out of his face. "Well you have to need something," Bucky said, a part of him just needing to do something to help. Something to help Steve before helping him sleep. "What... Can I do anything to help?" He asked, his grey eyes serious but also looking a little confused. He glanced down to look at Steve's legs and his eyebrows shot up. People didn't sit like that unless... "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Steve immediately felt his skin itch with embarrassment, "No, I'm fine." He could hold it in-- he wasn't too fond of using the restroom on planes in the first place, the bathroom's too small and cramped, making him feel claustrophobic. He was also around people who honestly he wasn't sure he could trust, not knowing if they'd corner him as soon as he was out of Bucky's sight; he had obviously had to pay them for their services in the first place. He wasn't about to ask Bucky to come and stand watch over the restroom, either. He'd be fine. Shifting his weight and crossing his legs at the ankles underneath the thin blanket, he frowned, "Stop looking at me like that, I'm fine Bucky." A tight-lipped frown formed on his lips, refusing to avert his eyes and admit defeat. "How about you get some more sleep?" He tried to persuade, his expression softening as he patted the tops of his thighs for Bucky to rest his head against.

Bucky blinked a little dumbly at Steve and he shook his head. "You'll sleep easier if you go to the bathroom first," he pointed out, making no move to go any closer to him. "I'll sleep after you go to the bathroom and then come back here to sleep." Compromise, right? Steve obviously wanted him to rest a little more, and Bucky wanted Steve to be comfortable and not slowing them down once the plane had landed. "It's just down by the kitchen, going now will stop the descent from making you pee your pants," he also pointed out, his tone entirely serious and not joking in any way. 

Steve's face flushed with shame as he hissed out between his teeth, " _Quiet_." He crossed his arms across his chest, looking flustered. "The bathrooms are really small. How would I know if I'll even fit in it? I'll pee when we land." The tips of his ears burned with heat, glancing over to one of the hostesses that was looking there way with a small smirk. Bucky  _had_  to say that out loud, like he was some kid. "Fine.  _Fine_. Just- lay down or something, I'll go in a minute." The small frown still evident on his lips, averting his eyes. It was something silly to be worried about, but Steve sometimes still felt like a stranger in his own body.

Bucky blinked at the reaction Steve gave in return to his words, and he frowned too, a little confused. "The bathroom isn't small," he said, and instead of lying down he stood up and offered his flesh hand for Steve to take. "Come, I'll show you," he said brightly, grey eyes softer now because he didn't want Steve to be mad at him. The back of his mind was telling him that looked a lot prettier when he blushed but for other reasons, and when he hissed for other reasons it was better too. "Come Steve, I'll show you the bathroom." He offered a small smile, all he knew that made Steve happier, shifting his hand in the air again to try and prompt him to take it. If he couldn't make his own decisions or do them properly, Bucky would help him. 

His brow furrowed a little before huffing and reaching out to grab his hand, letting him pull Steve's weight up off the couch, "You're a jerk." He mumbled with no real heat behind his words, skin still flushed with a bit of embarrassment, squeezing his flesh hand lightly before letting him lead him. Ridiculous, being taken to the bathroom like some snot-nosed runt, he hefted another sigh but his expression softened when he saw the gentle smile flicker over Bucky's lips. The bathroom door was just as minimal as he'd imagined it to be, but didn't look as cramped as he thought. "Thanks-" He mumbled under his breath, moving to let go of Bucky's hand, "You… You can go wait back at the couch for me." He spoke up once again when the other man didn't move to leave.

Bucky walked across the cabin holding Steve's hand softly, and once again the smiling had worked so he was happy-- or as close to happy as his own mind would allow at present time. The word jerk, for some reason, brought the word _punk_ to mind, but he didn't say it out loud because he didn't understand what it meant. He opened the door for Steve too, to reveal a tidy clean little bathroom that was probably double the size of a regular airplane toilet. The perks of hiring a jet. So he dropped Steve's hand and stepped to the side to allow Steve access, but he didn't make any move to leave, wanting to be there when Steve came out so he could hold his hand on the way back to the couch. "Why?" he asked, looking genuinely confused at Steve's suggestion.

 _Why?_  He had to really ask something like that, Steve forced a meek smile, "I don't want you standing right outside the door listening to me using the toilet." He took a step closer to the door, a step closer to finally relieving his bladder. Bucky still didn't make any moves to leave. "Fine." He murmured, skin flushed as he turned on his heel and stepped inside the bathroom, a little wider and roomier compared to all the other smaller airline bathrooms he has encountered since being off the ice. He shut the door firmly behind him but didn't bother to lock it, knowing it was just Bucky outside the door. "Cover your ears or something." He called out from inside, biting the inside of his cheek as he unfastened the front of his jeans and pulled them down far enough over his narrow waist so it was easier to deal with.

Bucky blinked dumbly at Steve when he expressed what he wanted, not sure why it was a big deal. Bucky had had handlers who'd wanted to do a lot more than just listen to him use the toilet, so why would Steve care if he was just outside making sure that they could go back to the couch together. He just watched with a neutral expression and didn't move, and finally Steve stepped inside and Bucky nodded a little to himself. No troubles at all. He heard the order though and felt himself rolling his eyes, an action that he didn't really know from where it came, but otherwise thought was appropriate. He covered his ears with both hands and sighed just a little, leaning against the wall, waiting patiently for the blond to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very amazing reader did fan art!!!!   
> lookie look here http://dontbecooler.tumblr.com/post/143654499687/someone-did-art-based-on-something-ive-written


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spooning, awkwardness, and rutting ensue  
> im sorry but also not ;)
> 
> ENJOY XX

Steve tucked himself back into his briefs and buttoned his jeans back up before flushing and shifting his weight so he could side-step over to the tiny sink in front of the mirror. He glanced at his reflection before looking away quickly, his cheeks were still colored with heat, "Pull yourself together, Rogers." He mumbled to himself, washing his hands before he splashed his face, wiping his hands on the hand-towel before drying his warm face. He sighed softly before turning enough to open the door, "I'm finis-" He trailed off, catching sight of Bucky with his ears actually covered, a small grin forming on his lips.

Bucky waited and when Steve finally stepped out of the bathroom he kept his hands over his ears, it hadn't really been specified if he was to take his hands away from his ears. Steve was smiling though, so he smiled too, eyes running over Steve's face, and this smile that he gave was half a grin too, he didn't know why he was smiling as big as he was, but it was only appropriate if Steve was doing it too. The blond was blushing too, which Bucky didn't understand, but he didn't question, just smiled a bit stupidly with his hands over his ears. 

Bucky mirrored his grin almost instantly, his hands still planted over his ears, "Thank you." He mouthed teasingly, reaching his hands out to grip at his wrists lightly and pulled his hands away so he could intertwine their fingers together with both hands, "Escort me back to my seat?" He smiled softly, swinging their arms lightly before moving them away, feeling completely relieved that his bladder had been tended to, the sleep had faded a bit from his mind.

"You're welcome," Bucky said as Steve finally took his hands away from his ears, the comforting noise of the plane's engine seeping back into his ears. He looked down at their hands for a moment, surprised at the contact on both of his hands because the sensations were so different. Simple pressure on his left hand, no warmth or actual feeling, while his right hand could feel the softness of Steve's skin, the slight dampness from washing his hands, the warmth of it... "Of course Steve," he said with another small smile, the walk back to the couch not very long and he didn't really know what to do when they got back to the seat. Were they cuddling again? He waited to see if Steve would take the lead, show him what to do.

Once they were back at their seat, he followed Bucky's lead and sat down on the plush cushions next to him-- in the short time they had been on the plane, Bucky had become more comfortable with the close contact and Steve appreciated that more than he could say out loud. He shifted a bit closer and took hold of the throw blanket to spread it across the tops of their laps, his shoulder bumping against his own. The short trip to the restroom gave him time to stretch out the muscles in his legs and woke him up enough that he was feeling a little more restless when he sat back down. He would probably develop horrible jetlag once they had landed in Russia- the very thought had him heaving a quiet sigh, resting his head against Bucky's shoulder.

Once they were sat down Bucky was immediately able to relax into the seat, pressed up right next to Steve and enjoying the way that somehow the other was one of the warmest people who ever touched him. Bucky liked it. So he huffed out a little breath and pulled the blanket closer, the whole business seeming more of a formality than actual comfort. This wouldn't be comfortable if they decided to actually sleep in this position, so before they even had time to properly warm up the seat, Bucky said, "Would you like to lie with me instead?"

Steve's cheek was rested against his shoulder comfortably, focusing his attention on the row of seat across the aisle when he heard Bucky speak up, "Huh?" He lifted his head up to look at him, his eyes rounded, did he hear him right? "Lie with you? I don't think this is big enough for the both of us to lay down?" He assessed the space around them and it would be a pretty tight fit unless one of them was resting on top of the other. He had doubts Bucky would even be comfortable with that in the first place, so he didn't mention it. "I can move to the other couch, if you'd like? Let you stretch out." He offered a polite smile adjusting himself to pull the blanket off.

Bucky slid an arm around Steve's shoulder though, and in one fluid movement had flipped the blond onto his side in a position so Bucky was tucked right up to the back of the couch on his side, Steve tucked against his front as the little spoon, and Bucky's metal arm was taking most of Steve's weight so he wouldn't fall. He shuffled down so their feet were hanging off the edge of it, and Bucky pulled the blanket over their bodies and he hummed a little into the back of Steve's neck, looking smug even though Steve couldn't see his expression. "There's room enough for the both of us," he murmured, into Steve's hair, shifting his body a little bit so it was less awkward a position. Not that it was awkward to begin with. Bucky was protecting Steve and would be able to monitor him from here easily, and it was also very warm and his legs were stretched out. It was nice.

An undignified yelp escaped him and was quickly muffled with the brunt impact of being forced onto his side the reflective metal of Bucky's left arm catching his attention out of the corner of his eye where it was wrapped around his waist to keep him in place, "We  _hardly_  fit, Bucky." A quiet laugh bubbled up from his chest, wedging his hips back enough so his knees weren't off the edge as he rubbed his cheek against the smooth fabric of the couch. He could feel Bucky's body-heat begin to envelope him as it seeped through the cotton of his sweatshirt, "Hard to be the little spoon when I'm not exactly  _little_  anymore." He joked lightly--although he wasn't complaining, this felt like home. He moved his left arm underneath the blanket enough so that his fingertips ghosted over the platted surface of Bucky's arm, despite there being no real feeling he'd experience, he couldn't help but trace small patterns against the metal.

Bucky felt a low chuckle resonate through his chest, and he huffed, metal fingers flexing when he felt Steve's touch. He was light and happy from the noise Steve had made, it was amusing, and he pressed his thighs to the backs of Steve's. Yes, he liked this a lot. "We're the same size. We can switch being each spoon," he said, even though he didn't really understand the terminology very much, he could guess what it meant. Was he a big spoon? He let his eyes flick shut, being up against Steve like this meant that a few of his cut sons wounds are being aggravated, but that was barely anything compared to how good Steve's hand felt caressing his metal arm. It made him feel like he could purr, and he nuzzled into the back of Steve's neck, a comfort thing. Steve wasn't complaining, he could do that unless Steve told him no. It was good.

Steve could feel Bucky fitting more snug against his back with his knees pushing into the back of his thighs, groin pressing against his ass flush. He let out a content sound feeling himself melting into the heat, "You've always been the Big Spoon, I think I'd have pretty large shoes to fill." He said softly, his eyes beginning to slide shut despite the brush of Bucky's lips against the nape of his neck, "That feels nice, Buck." Rasping out, his fingers curling against the thick platted wrist, he could hear the joints begin to whirr as he flexed his fingers underneath the blanket. Their legs tangled loosely, the warmth of their combined body-heat trapped under the throw was almost overwhelming but he couldn't bring himself to pull away; instead he was beginning to push back further against Bucky.

Bucky pressed his lips now to Steve's neck, the heat coiling at his collar and going to spin around his groin-- Steve was pressing back and it felt so right. Why did they fit so well together? It was a question that had plagued him from the moment Steve had hugged him when he'd stepped through the front door. Almost a day of wondering, and here they were. Bucky involuntarily rolling his hips due to a base instinct deep inside him, even though he'd been made to do this, he _wanted_ this, he felt this right with Steve. The metal fingers curled into a fist, a small noise that could have been pleasure or could have been distress escaped his lips. This was new, this was new, was it too fast? "Stevie," he breathed straight back, body rolling again, torso pressing down to his knees against Steve's thighs. What was this?

His breath caught in the back of his throat when he felt lips brush with more intent against the nape of his neck near his hairline, "Bucky," He croaked out as quietly as he could, biting down on his lower lip when hips began to press forward and roll against his backside, he felt the flush build up from underneath his sweatshirt and spread across his skin like wild fire. His fingers curled tighter, blunt nails scraping against the hard surface of the plates in Bucky's wrist; he inhaled sharply and slowly ground his hips back against him. His full lips parted slightly, Steve couldn't help rubbing his cheek down against the couch cushion trying to turn his face into it to attempt to muffle the soft hitches of breath. He could feel his heart beating erratically against his ribs-- things had escalated so quickly he couldn't still his hips.

Bucky's mind felt like it was ticking away like crazy, like some sort of bomb, and while he was moving all the could think about were the sensations Steve's body gave him, how he felt so alive, how there was no way he could be a machine because he was feeling so much... Yet... It was almost too much, and just as quickly as it started, Bucky was tightening his grip on Steve just a little and freezing, a small almost whimpered sound coming from his throat. "No, I'm not..." He started, but he didn't know how to finish, his face hidden in Steve's skin, breathing in roughly and hugely, eyes squeezed shut tight. "Not here," was all he could finally settle on, trying to steady everything and not think about the need for friction down around his crotch. "I'm sorry..."

The fingers on Bucky's left hand began to tighten against his hip, stilling him from rocking his hips back into the friction, "Buck..." he rasped out almost desperately, his own fingers curling around his wrist to try to move it away, "Please, move." He sounded breathless like the air had been punched right out of his lungs-- his muscles tensed when he took notice of the pleading tone in Bucky's voice, his chest heaving against his back. "I...I'm sorry, I'm sor-" his words choked out, attempting to shift and turn onto his side to face the other man, but Bucky wouldn't release his grip on his waist. He had to turn… He needed to see if he was okay.

Bucky immediately pressed his lips to the back of Steve's neck again, hushing him and loosening his grip but not enough to let Steve move enough to fall off or do something else ridiculous. "Shhh, Stevie... No," he said, having pulled himself back into his head and calmed down mostly. "It's okay, shh, breathe for me." He used his right hand, the arm of it tucked almost awkwardly between their bodies, and drew little circles on Steve's back... Something that seemed like he'd done it before, almost like someone smaller than Steve now had been beneath that touch. "Just not now, Steve. Too early." He didn't know where he was getting the words to explain, in fact, he was freaking out a bit... But he was managing to keep his voice calm and his body was no longer showing it either. His mind just needed a little longer to settle. "We just need to sleep, both of us."

He tensed before settled back into the hand smoothing over his back and the butterfly gentle kisses being pressed against his hairline. He inhaled through his nose and out of his mouth like he's been instructed so many times before, letting his eyes shuts and pulse begin to settle where it's thrumming against his throat, "I'm sorry," His voice cracked, his grip loosening on Bucky's wrist before pressing back against his chest for the warmth, knowing that Bucky was right there behind him was beginning to ground his nerves and stabilize his hitched breathing. He wanted to face Bucky, burry himself into the crook of his neck- but there was no way he'd be able to with how narrow the couch was, he was thankful that the hostesses had already retired to their respective resting area.

Bucky kept kissing Steve softly, he could feel how much that calmed the brunet and he was glad of it, letting his now own steady heartbeat set the pace of the rest. "I'm sorry too," he whispered, though what for he didn't know. He was sorry about a lot of things, a lot he couldn't really pin point. He was just very sorry. And then he was settling his nose and mouth on Steve's shoulder and letting his eyes slip shut, he nodded just a little and hummed. "Just sleep now, Steve. It'll be better when we wake up." He could rest now, he could keep Steve safe and if there was a threat he was at a high enough percentage to effectively protect them. Not that he actually considered the air hostesses a threat. He had... But Bucky was more understanding than that, deep down. 

Steve wanted to deliberately turn and press kisses against Bucky's face, smother him with it, "You sleep, too." He murmured, shifting his weight against the couch enough to push back against him and secure himself against the couch. He could feel Bucky nosing against the side of his neck, his breath puffing against his warm skin. "I promised you one hundred percent." He said as an afterthought, eyes already sliding shut, lips parted as a quiet snore escaped.

Bucky smiled softly at the promise reiterated, and he felt Steve relax as he fell asleep, it was good to know that the blond was resting, and he hummed a little bit, tucking up to the back of the couch more and pulling Steve as close as possible. It would be okay. They had a few more hours to sleep, and then they'd be safe in Russia. He took a few deep breaths and then he was asleep too, even though he probably would've also liked to keep awake and keep watch. However, Steve's presence relaxed him, and he was kept safe by who he was keeping safe.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve startled awake when the plane had jolted enough to shift his weight against the couch, he flinched and slowly slid open his eyes. Where was he? His mind was momentarily fuzzy, eyes slowly trekking the length of the aisle, "Bucky?" He mumbled, voice thick with sleep and misuse. How much time had passed-- light was beginning to filter through the spaces in the blinds pulled over the small windows in the side of the plane. He pushed his weight back enough to arch his back to begin working the knots in his tensed muscles

Bucky had been awake the moment a small bit of turbulence shook the plane, and that had been for a long few minutes, and judging by the light they had maybe an hour or so to go before the plane landed-- Bucky was alright with staying up for the rest of it. He was at 89% and Steve was warm and safe, it was very nice to feel Steve breathing and dreaming, rather than be asleep through it and not experience it. A bump made Steve stir though, and Bucky moved around Steve's stretching to accommodate it a bit more. "Hello Steve," he murmured softly in the blond's ear, rubbing the back of his neck again with his lips in the same way he had to calm Steve down before.

A small smile formed on his lips at such a formal greeting followed by light presses of barely there kisses against his nape, "Hello, Buck." He was able to shift onto his side to face him with the help of Bucky's hand keeping him stable and not falling off the cushions, "Good morning." He spoke once more, a little more quiet, wetting his bottom lip and becoming more aware of how his breath might smell and this close of proximity. A sheepish smile spread before ducking he head forward and pressing a chaste kiss against the corner of Bucky's mouth-- wait, was that okay? He turned his head away, pushing his head against the crook of his neck, "Sorry, I guess I'm still waking up."

Whatever opinion Bucky might have had on Steve's morning breath, or on his sleepy expression, mussed hair a little flushed, any of it, disappeared as soon as he was kissed. It was like he short circuited for a moment, grey eyes going wide and there was just... No way that he could comprehend the feelings buzzing in his chest. He wanted to kiss Steve back very much, but he also wanted to pull away and make sure it never happened again because right now he was very, very confused and he didn't know what to do. "It's okay," he replied mechanically, but his flesh hand was coming to his mouth to press where Steve's lips had just been. His lips were tingling. Was that a good or a bad thing? While touching his lips, looking confused and slightly lost, he decided to give Steve an update, sounding dazed. "We hit a little bit of turbulence but otherwise we'll be okay and have just a little bit over an hour before we land," he said, in one breath without pausing. "I hope that's okay."

His voice muffled from where his head was pressed against the side of Bucky's throat, "I wouldn't mind staying here for a bit longer, anyway." He shouldn't have kissed Bucky, it wasn't fair. He didn't want to take advantage of something that he wasn't sure of-- it had clearly made his uncomfortable by the way his muscles began to tense and his voice sounded forced to keep calm. He shifted his weight underneath the blanket that they shared, attempting to get up from where they were flush together. "What are we going to do when we land? You said there was a safe house." He tried to keep his voice low as he spoke, finally sitting up and looking around the smaller cabin to focus attention elsewhere-- He couldn't bring himself to look at Bucky.

Bucky was silently glad when Steve sat up, because now that warmth wasn't there and he didn't have to keep thinking about it. He brought his metal hand to his lap and shuffled to prop himself up on the couch arm, watching Steve a little bit, making sure to drop his hand from his lips before the blond saw. Now Steve wasn't looking at him, though, and somehow that made his confusion drip with a little hurt, even if he didn't let it show. The hurt made him more confused, because Steve simply wasn't looking at him. Had he done something wrong? "I'll take you to the safe house," he said, looking around the cabin. "Do you want something to eat, Steve?" He asked, swinging his legs off the couch and remembering his weapons belt, he picked it up from the floor before he stepped on it, and set on the closest other chair. "There's a wide selection offered." Yes, divert attention from what he was thinking. That was good.

Steve glanced over to watch Bucky pick up his holster off the floor to set it aside-- food? His appetite had still not come back, but he'd probably regret it if he doesn't get something on his stomach sooner than later. "I'll have whatever you have." He answered off-handedly, pulling the blanket off his lap to fold it messily and set it on the cushion between them. He rubbed his palms together before speaking up again, "Are you going to stay with me when we get there?" He hadn't put much thought into what exactly they were doing once they were in Russia. Would Bucky be staying? Would he just drop him off and then leave him? The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably, biting the meat of his inner cheek, averting his eyes.   

That gave Bucky the responsibility of choosing what was best for Steve to eat. He wandered to the kitchen area, looking over his shoulder to the blond. He wanted to get him eggs, because the eggs he'd had at Steve's house were nice, but he also wanted to indulge the blond. Something he could eat himself. He spoke to the hostess quickly, smiling brightly, and then turned and went back to Steve at the couch, sitting cross legged at his feet. "Of course I will stay with you," he said, looking up to Steve openly. "I know where the dangers are, and I know how to keep you safe."

His chest swelled at the earnest look on Bucky's face as he looked up at him with a reassuring smile, "Wouldn't let you leave anyway." A small smile formed as he reached his hands out hesitantly to cup the sides of Bucky's face, "You're stuck with me now." He smoothed the pad of his thumb under the softer skin underneath his eye, his expression softening. He had not come back with any food, so he assumed they were preparing something in the kitchen for them. He toed at Bucky's crossed knee with socked feet, nudging at his pant legs idly, "I'm going to keep you safe too, Bucky." He stated though, open smile not faltering.

Bucky sat obediently, though Steve's touch was very nice. He liked the touch, even if it made confusion bubble in his stomach again. The touch was too nice, he liked it so much... And the fact that Steve would've made him stay... That was like his handler trying to keep him safe. He liked it. It didn't scare him, because Steve would keep him safe if he made him stay. Good. Yes. "I'll keep you safe more," he said with a small grin, pressing into the touch more and letting his eyes flutter shut. Steve's hands were warm, they were nice

"Oh?" A crooked grin, a quiet laugh bubbling up his chest, "Is this a competition now, Jerk?" He teased, squeezing at his cheeks before smoothing the skin and releasing his face and resting back fully against the cushions. "You don't need to sit on the floor, Buck." He said but wasn't reprimanding him for it, if it made him more comfortable then it didn't bother Steve, either. His hands were rested in his lap, squeezing his palms together he continued to prod at Bucky's kneecaps with his toes.

"There's no competition," Bucky replied, eyes flicking open when Steve stopped touching his face, and he immediately missed it, he wanted that warmth back. "Punk," he tacked on, because that seemed right, that seemed like it fit to say. He settled his hands on the tops of Steve's feet, pressing just lightly. "The floor is comfortable, Steve," he pointed out, watching Steve through his lashes for a moment because his eyes were somewhat fixed on the floor. "So I can choose." He pat Steve's feet then, expression open and less neutral, more... Happy. He was happy where he was sat.

Steve's heart fluttered at the teasing name,  _Punk_ , it was such a Bucky thing to say that it made his stomach flip and the smile grow larger on his face, wiggling his socked toes underneath the weight of his palms pressed against them. "Yes, you can choose." He nodded his head lightly, his knees knocked together while he squeezed his thighs shut, drumming his fingers against the tops of his thighs. "As long as you're comfortable. There will always be a seat open next to me." He demonstrated this by moving a hand over to pat the free cushion beside him. Bucky looked so different compared to just the short few hours ago when they were reunited in his apartment in Brooklyn. He looked so--... _Happy._

Bucky looked at the space Steve pat almost longingly, and then he was shuffling and standing enough to fling himself into the spot, leaning into Steve's side almost immediately. "Always a seat," he parroted, one arm easily sliding around Steve's waist. Confusion, but he knew that this was what he was supposed to do. Hold Steve, invade his space, share his warmth. He knew this. Deep down, it was a part of his route code. "I ordered French toast," he said eventually, leaning his weight into the other and watching the hostesses bustle around making them. "It's got fruit and bacon and sweet things."

"Now you're just spoiling me. Trying to fatten me up?" He teased, leaning into the warmth of Bucky pressing against his side, his flesh arm wrapping around his waist, "I see your angle." A grin still curving up the corner of his lips, French toast sounded amazing right now. Something comforting and sweet to settle on his stomach, thinking about it made his mouth water. For Bucky to order something like that made his chest feel light and made him want to eat fruit from Bucky's fingers. That made him pause, muscles tensing as his skin flushed underneath his collar. He leaned heavily against the others side, pressing his head into the crook of his neck-- this all felt very  _domestic_. Too good to be true.

Bucky was quite surprised that Steve leaned on him right back and tucked his head into his side. Steve was taller than him by a fair bit so it meant he was bent awkwardly... Then again it was comfortable for Bucky and if Steve wanted to sit weird that was his own choice. "If I fattened you up you wouldn't be able to defend yourself. That doesn't help at all." He huffed a laugh Steve's silliness. "Our metabolisms don't let us get fat anyway. We burn it up too fast. That's why we need to eat so much more." He felt more heat coming from Steve's body though, was he flushing? That was confusing, also. They were just sitting together.

Steve neck was an uncomfortable angle but he shifted a bit so that he was able to lay down and rest his head against his lap instead, he felt spoiled and taken care of. It left a warmth in his stomach that he couldn't really explain but left him remembering how things use to be before the war. He might be bigger now but he'd always be the small punk from Brooklyn that picked fights. He felt Bucky's hand slide across his hip from where his arm was wrapped around his waist, resting against his middle. "A guy can dream, yeah?" He teased, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of Bucky's sweats, finally letting his head rest against his thigh. "Maybe you should feed me, carry me off the plane."

Bucky let Steve move around and stayed still until he was settled, and then he started running his flesh fingers through Steve's hair, loving the feeling of it slipping through his fingers, and it was his metal arm around Steve's waist, balanced carefully. Steve was a comforting weight and he hummed softly. "I need to carry the bags. I can't carry you. You weigh too much," he teased, smiling and his eyes were shining a little bit. It was weird to tease someone and not worry about being told off. "Especially if I feed you." With Steve's face so close to his crotch he couldn't help but remember things, but he quickly shoved them away before it could create butterflies in his belly.

"So, I still get to be fed?" A playful grin on his lips, "Maybe, you can carry me on your back." He rubbed his cheek against his muscular thigh once more, enjoying the soft fabric of his sweats against his flushed skin. His eyes began to slide shut as he felt fingers thread through his hair, blunt nails scraping against his scalp in soothing patterns. They probably looked like some love-struck couple on their honeymoon-- if their presence on the plane wasn't paid for under the table and they weren't the only passengers, that might have been believable. He could hear the distant rustling and clanking of things happening in the kitchen as their food was being prepared. Pressing into the fingers scratching behind his ear- Bucky was being so gentle with him. 

Bucky hummed a little bit. "I might still be crushed baby," he cooed, and he didn't know where the pet name came from or why it fit what he was saying so much, it made a conflicting frown touch his lips over the smile. He huffed a bit, not liking feeling like this and not knowing what was going on inside him. He was in familiarity except nothing about this he knew. It was all known and entirely unknown. He didn't know what to do. He curled his fingers into the hair and tugged just a little, his heart thudding loud in his chest. "Especially if the food is as good as it has been before." He'd eaten on his flights a couple of times, when it was an absolute necessity, and it had been top quality. With the amount he was paying, it was supposed to be top quality.

Steve’s heart flitted against his ribs at the endearment, he hadn't heard Bucky call him that since before the war and it made his stomach twist, "You're no fun." He murmured- muscles tensed as his breath caught in the back of his throat when Bucky lightly yanked at the roots of his air. A pathetic whine escaped despite trying to bite it back, "Bucky." He mumbled, turning his face into his thigh, rubbing his face into his thigh to muffle the sound. He jerked when the door separating the kitchen from the cabin longue opened with a swing, signalling their food being brought out. Having tried to jerk away it caused his roots to be tugged once more where Bucky's fingers were still curled against his scalp.

Bucky wasn't sure what he'd done, he didn't know if Steve saying his name was good or bad so it was like he was stuck so he didn't move his hand, but when the food was brought out though he brought his hand back quickly to his lap, helping Steve sit up because they were bringing trays for their laps. It looked amazing, the toast a golden brown with bacon, syrup as well as fried banana, it smelt so good, and Bucky was actually looking forward to eating it. Normally it was just what he needed, but Steve would eat what he did and he would eat it all contentedly if that meant Steve would eat the same. He thanked the hostesses as they set the tray down and their food, and easily asked for two glasses of orange juice too. He looked over to Steve, the situation that had just happened almost forgotten in light of their new situation. "Do you like it?" He asked, smiling a little bit with a clear gaze now.

Steve's heart was pulsing against his chest, skin flushed with embarrassment as he was helped to sit up straight as their trays of food was brought out to him; he thanked the hostess' with a sheepish smile. Averting his eyes down to his plate to give him something to focus on, "Wow, this looks great, Buck." His eyes rounded with surprise, usually airline food wasn't anything to write home about, but  _this_  looked right out of a restaurant. He wet his lips and picked up his for and used the edge of it to begin cutting a piece of the toasted bread, his lips formed around the fork's prongs as he took a bite, letting out a low groan. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he was actually eating. "I love it." He replied around the mouthful, already cutting a piece of the caramelized banana.     

Bucky broke into a grin at the compliment, even if it wasn't he who'd made it, he felt like it was a compliment towards him and that made him happy. He ate a bite of it at the same time as Steve and it felt almost too sweet on his tongue, he hadn't had anything this indulgent for what felt like centuries. He had to take a moment to just chew while his brain processed it all, he took a deep breath then smiled when Steve said he loved it, trying all the other things very slowly and carefully, not wanting to overwhelm himself. It took him a moment to try and mix things together, chewing slowly and being so very careful.

Steve was already digging into his meal, his stomach twisting a bit with how sweet it was all but it settled warmly, it was comforting. He finished off the bits of banana and crisp bacon, "I'm going to regret this later. You might've created a monster." He teased, wiping his mouth with one of the napkins they provided with their food, “I've got a horrible sweet tooth." He solidified this fact by reaching his fork over and stabbing a piece of banana on Bucky's plate that he had not finished. He brought it up to his lips as if he'd eat it before thinking different and holding it up to Bucky, a small smile on his lips. 

Steve was eating a lot more quickly than him, and it was good to see. Maybe if Steve finished his meal faster that would mean that Bucky wouldn't have to finish his own. He was taking a long time processing each bit, and every element on the plate complimented each and every other element, which was an exciting journey for his tongue. He nodded and hummed agreement whenever Steve spoke, somewhat focused on his own eating, but when he saw the flash of metal on his plate that wasn't his own he looked up and smiled softly. He didn't mind. Eating this whole thing would be too much for him anyway. He'd eaten the first bit of bread, most of the banana and a fair bit of the cream-- he felt almost full already. He looked at Steve about to eat it and let him to it, except now it was being held up to him and he paused slightly. Steve wanted him to eat it now? But he'd wanted to eat it himself... "It's okay. No thank you," he said politely, nodding to the food still on his plate, and then he had an idea. "Do you want more of mine?" One hostess came out in that moment and set down their juices, and Bucky thanked her softly, eyes still trained on the blond next to him.

Steve raised his brows to the polite decline before popping the piece into his mouth and hummed with delight, giving the hostess a sheepish smile and accepting the orange juice, saying his muffled thanks behind his hand as he chewed. He took a sip to help wash down the fruit, setting it back down on the side table next to the seats. He blinked at Bucky's question, looking over with a small frown, "You aren't going to finish yours?" He glanced down at the plate offered to him, "If you're sure." Wetting his lips before looking back up at him-- Steve was guilty for eating a lot, but like Bucky said, they needed more than the average person due to the serum. He just didn't want to come off as a glutton when Bucky looked like he was already getting full and Steve's own plate was nearly empty.

Bucky didn't know why Steve even asked him. He was obviously more hungry, and Bucky had a lot left, it was only obvious that the other would appreciate it more and should have it. He took a sip of the orange juice, mildly amused that Steve insisted on speaking English to the Russian hostesses, but the juice had him coughing a bit. It was... Even sweeter than what he had been eating, but in a different way. He sniffed, screwing up his face, but quickly bringing it under control. "It's too much," he elaborated vaguely, and he moved one and a half pieces of toast onto Steve's plate, and then the last of his banana, leaving a strip of bacon, the last of the cream, and half a piece of toast on his own plate. "It's okay Steve," he reassured, picking the bacon up with careful fingers, nibbling at it easily.

Steve watched as food was scraped onto his plate, leaving Bucky with just a few things left on his own, "If you're sure." He repeated, giving him a grateful smile before beginning piercing another piece of banana and bringing it up to his lips. As he chewed thoughtfully, he bumped his shoulder against Bucky's and gave him a softer smile-- he enjoyed watching Bucky eat, he was particular with each bite and what combination he paired up next to bring to his mouth. "Do you like it?" He hadn't asked back when Bucky had, watching him bite into a piece of crisp bacon.

Bucky enjoyed how somehow the meat was sweet, and he liked the saltiness too, and at Steve's question he looked over and nodded slightly, grey eyes wide. "I like this one the most," he said, dipping it into the cream and biting. He liked that combination a lot too, and he kept doing that until the bacon was gone and all he had left was toast an the last of the syrup. "It's very... It's a lot to try," he said, looking very earnest as he started to finish off his toast. "I haven't eaten anything like this before." He bumped Steve back a little bit though, a smile in his eyes.

Steve easily polished off the rest of his plate, picking up the napkin one last time to dab at his mouth before setting it crumpled on top off his plate. He wasn't sure where he was supposed to set it so he placed it on the side table next to the seat and exchanged it for the glass of juice, finishing that off also. "I'm glad you're enjoying it so much," he smiled largely before humming in thought. "There's still so much you haven't tried." Which was weird to say when Bucky was actually just retrying thing and "discovering" them once more. "I think I'll cook for you once we get settled. We can try new things together." He said this a bit softer, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap.

Bucky finished his meal soon after Steve, wiping his own mouth in exactly the same manner Steve had and basically copying his movements. He finished his glass off too, and he smiled softly at Steve, taking his tray and stacking it, then reaching over him to grab the dishes and stack them too. They wouldn't have to worry too much about it now, the hostesses would clean it all up for them. He leaned some of his weight on the blond, because that's what felt right to do, and he let out a little sigh. "Our safe house has all the facilities we need to keep ourselves occupied," he stated. He would make sure of it. "I'll drop you off, get what we need in town and then come back to you. So you'll have approximately an hour to settle in alone."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the long hiatus guys i dont really have much more of an excuse than life has been getting in the way and fic writing and stuff has not been my main priority  
> i have edited some more stuff up so if y'all keep reminding me you like me posting it'll keep me posting!! thanks so much for your continued support though its very touching xoxox
> 
> note: my editing is getting slightly more haphazard due to not having time to vigorously read through skreeds and skreeds of text, so ifyou find a mistake i'm sorry but also not, i'm pretty sure it'll still make sense though xoxox
> 
> THANKS GUYS

Steve leaned back into the weight, pressed flush against one another, "One hour, huh? What will I do with all that time." He teased lightly, he'd only probably just shower and get their things settled away into the rooms. He wasn't all that sure of what to expect once they were there, though. He wanted to ask, but he trusted Bucky enough to leave everything in his hands. "I'll cook tonight then, if you're going to be getting everything we'll need." He turned his head in a little to brush his lips against Bucky's temple; he felt like they were becoming comfortable enough that these small shows of affection weren't crossing any lines that they'd not be okay with. "Are you sure you don't want me coming into town with you?"

Bucky felt his eyelashes flutter at the lips to his head, it made him feel very special and made his heart thud in his chest. He took a deep breath in though, and he shook his head. "No, Steve. You'll need to settle in. I have some business I need to take care of." He settled his hand on Steve's thigh, rubbing slowly in a way that he assumed would be soothing. "It's okay." He might have been planning to do things that weren't exactly legal, and he didn't want Steve to worry or be disappointed in him. He wanted Steve to be proud of him. In his base route code, this was.

They would be landing in less than an hour and all Steve wanted to do was stay close to Bucky as much as possible, pressing another kiss against his cheek, "Fine. I guess it would be a hassle if you had to translate everything for me, too." Steve gave a small huff but with no real heat behind it, "Don't get in too much trouble while you're gone." Part of him was a little weary of Bucky being out on his own, but he knew that'd he'd be able to handle himself. He'd come back to Steve safely. His breath hitched, cutting out his train of thought when he felt a warm hand smooth of the top of his thigh, a small smile forming on his lips.   
Bucky nodded slightly. That was another point. Steve would be isolated by language while they were here, and Bucky would have to translate for him if ever they went out. "I'm not going to get caught, Steve," he said with a huffed laugh, hand squeezing the blond's upper thigh, and he was very pleased that Steve wasn't going to make a fuss about it. Yes... Very good. He moved his hand down to Steve's knee, just tracing the fabric to enjoy the feeling of it. Closeness without fear. How unusual. "I'm very good at what I do, Steve, there's no need to worry."

Steve melted into the feeling of his thick thigh being squeezed and then rubbed, "You've always been good at everything you do, Buck. It's kind of unfair." He murmured contentedly, leaning more heavily against his side. "What would I do with myself if you did get caught. I'd probably starve." He teased but honestly had full confidence in the other man that he would come back safely, pressing another lingering kiss against his cheek, breath smelling like maple syrup. It would be anytime now that they'd land, he felt like they had been on that plane for days but really couldn't ask more for the progress they've made with each other since getting on. 

Steve was leaning so much against him Bucky was sure that this wasn't how normal friends sat. He'd already concluded in some aspects that this wasn't the average friendship, but the kisses, the touching, the humming, the way it made his heart feel like it was about to beat out of his chest... And Steve said such nice things to him in lovely tones of voice... Everything he did he was good at, apparently. That insinuated that he'd been so much more than this before. Did that insinuate things that he didn't understand? He huffed a little bit. Steve asking what he would do... God, he was so confused he didn't know what to do with it. "Have we ever been lovers, Steve?" He blurted out, hand going still on the other's leg. "Or anything else along those lines?"

Steve's muscles tensed, turning his head away to clear his throat-- what was he supposed to say to that? He felt the hand tighten around his thigh grounding him to focus on the situation instead of avoiding it. "I'm sorry, Buck." He had thought Bucky had remembered some stuff before the war, he must have. "We were never-" He tried to grasp for the words, clasping his hands tighter in his lap, "Lovers." he finished pathetically. It was true, they had never been "officially" together, neither of them plucking up the courage to say anything but the feelings were mostly mutual and unspoken; things that just settled into place over time and felt right. He tried not to look at the hand still clasped around his thigh muscle, "We were just Bucky and Steve." He didn't know how to explain it, it was just how things were.

For some reason that hurt, and the brunet was frowning and wondering why that hurt. Because it did, and what had just happened wasn't a tangible thing, it was just Steve saying things. "I don't understand," he said softly, and he finally brought his own hand into his lap, and for some reason now he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to be touching Steve like this. If they weren't anything more than just 'Bucky and Steve'. What did that even mean? Before Steve was given the chance to explain though, the hostesses came in and told them to prepare for landing, and Bucky nodded tightly, standing up without thinking and going over to the seat with his things under it after grabbing his weapons belt. "We're landing. You'll want to sit tight," he said, almost snapping but managing to keep it calm and controlled. And he didn't look at the blond. That hurt. It hurt and he didn't know why, but he didn't want to hurt so he didn't look.

Steve flinched when Bucky yanked his hand back and got up, moving to sit in the opposite seat, "Buck-" he trailed off when he was ordered to sit tight, pulling his hands back into his lap and sitting back against the seat, "Okay." Bucky's attitude had completely switched, reverting back to something colder. He kept his eyes down so he didn't have to see that stoic look on his face, "I can carry my things when we land." He swallowed thickly, that was the least he could do- his stomach was beginning to twist uncomfortably. The plane was rocking slightly with the force of the landing; he didn't know what he had said that had caused the tense atmosphere but there wasn't anything he could say that would change it. What was he supposed to say to that? That hadn't been lovers, but the sows of affection and close contact were nothing new between them, it was just something they did.

The landing was more rough than Bucky expected, but the pilots managed to battle their elements and stop safely on icy runway. He didn't look over, he didn't say anything as he strapped his weapons belt back on, pulled on a bigger jacket over top of what he was already wearing. "I'm going to pay," he said, shouldering his duffel bag and picking up his money. On his way to the cockpit he paused. "There's a car by the plane that you need to go to. The helpers will get your bag into the back." And then he was going to do business, finish off the flight and give them a contact that he could call them off for when they needed to fly back to America.

He watched as Bucky instructed him where to go and then move towards the cockpit, "Okay." He said simply, a small frown before grabbing his bag down from the compartment above his seat and hefting it up to follow one of the hostess towards the exit and stairs leading down to the landing. He thanks them once again but all he got in reply was a sympathetic smile before turning to move back into the plane. Steve felt awkward in his own body, walking towards the car awaiting him with his luggage in tow. He placed his things into the open trunk before shutting it and standing outside the car with his back leaned against the backseat door. He wasn't going to get in until Bucky came back out.

It didn't take long to negotiate what was going to be done, and once more the pilots tried to chat and be merry, and while he was normally able to play along, today Bucky had more pressing issues to attend to. He thanked them quickly and gave them their pay, he could feel the cold air from the Russian spring night. He rushed out to the car and gave Steve a look, not very pleased that he hadn't listened. "If you want to be safe, you have to listen to my instruction," he said, lilt of an accent back in his tone, but it was Russian, not Britain. Getting his own bags into the vehicle, he then brushed Steve out of the way so he could open the back door for him. "Get in the car." It was probably unfair to be treating Steve like this, but now Bucky was back on alert and he was confused and on edge now. "Hurry up." And then he was stepping past him to get in the front seat.

Steve perked up when he saw Bucky begin making his way down the stairs leading up to the plane, that was quickly changed by the narrowed look that was directed at him. He ducked his chin down, flinching slightly when the harsh accent was evident in his tone once more, words clipped. He side-stepped from the vehicle to let Bucky pull the door open, waiting impatiently for him to get inside and settle his weight heavily in the leather seats as the door was slammed shut behind him. What did he do that had put Bucky in this sour mood. He tried to not let it bother him too much but it was still needling in the back of his mind, Bucky's harsh directions leaving his skin buzzing but his stomach in knots. He pulled the seatbelt across his chest and secured it so he would be ready to go as soon as Bucky got in.

Bucky was driving away as soon as he checked Steve was buckled in and then he was gone, the car purring softly and combatting the chill easily with the heater on full blast. Bucky's expression was like hardened steel, his eyes occasionally flicking up to reassure himself that Steve was there, that Steve was in the car with him. Though, he was halfway to his safe house, when his thoughts and confusion was too loud in his head and he didn't know what to do. He pulled over on the side of the road, it had been driving down simply dark countryside for about an hour and hadn't passed any cars. "What does 'being Steve and Bucky' mean?" He asked into the stillness of the car.

Steve had sat in the silence for the past hour they had had been inside the care, his attention focusing outside the window although he hadn't been able to see anything that passed by for about half an hour when they turned down a darker side-road. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest to trap the heat beneath his sweatshirt and attempting to keep himself warm enough so he didn't have to ask Bucky to turn on the heater from the front seat. The hum of the engine was the only thing that prevented the tense silence from becoming suffocating and Steve was thankful for that. He was beginning to rest his head back against the seat when he felt the car jerk and then turn off to the side before the engine was cut, his breath catching in his throat. Was Bucky okay? His lips parted to ask before he was abruptly cut off, "What?" He had to give the clipped words a moment to process before he could gather an actually response without making himself sound like an idiot. Or more of one, he guesses. "I just meant that we've always been together. Ever since we were little, you always had my back and I had yours." He was fumbling over his words and not really sure if he was really making any sense, his brows beginning to furrow. "I mean-" He wet his lower lip, averting his eyes to the shadows outside his window once more. "We've done...things. If that's what you're wanting to know." He swallowed thickly, feeling too embarrassed to elaborate on the matter.

Bucky's hawk like gaze pinned Steve in the rear vision mirror, and he listened to what the blond had to say, very intently, trying to absorb it and comprehend. They'd had each other’s backs... So they were back up for one another? What? He was frowning just slightly, pursing his lips a little bit. They'd done things. Everyone did things. They were doing things right now just by sitting in a car and talking. He huffed, and noticed Steve's posture enough that finally he turned the heater on up to full, hoping Steve wasn't that cold. There had been an inflection on the word... Did that insinuate something? "What things?" He asked sharply, though he was calming down a little bit now he had the opportunity to clarify his thoughts, and also because Steve wasn't mad at him for being so rude. Did Steve ever get mad?

Steve blinked when he heard the car beginning to warm slowly with the whirring sound of the vents coming to life, rubbing his upper arms a bit to encourage the circulation to heat his body. His heart fluttered against his chest when Bucky asked for specifics. He should have known that he was being too cryptic about the whole thing. That was a misstep on his part, he had to reel it back and realize that Bucky wouldn't understand vague concepts are sayings without furthering the explanation. "Things." He repeated again a bit slower, biting the meat of his inner cheek before turning his head to look forward again, catching Bucky's narrowed gaze in the rear-view mirror. "Physical things." He tried once more, moving his hands down to his lap to rub the flats of his palms together for the warming friction of skin. He pursed his lips a little, "We were never in a relationship. You still went to the dance hall with a dame- a girl." He specified a bit dumbly, feeling his cheeks warm pathetically, "But at the end of the day you came back home and you were mine again. We were each other's." His voice cracked as he trailed off softly, "We were just Bucky and Steve." He had never really thought about what they were exactly, there was no label for what they had been. 

That was too complicated. Why did it have to be so complicated? All Bucky wanted was something simple and easy to understand, and this was none of those things. He grit his jaw a little bit. Physical. So... That's why he felt that way when Steve touched him. And... They were each other's even if he went away to dance with someone else. That.... why hadn't they been exclusive when obviously Bucky meant enough to Steve to make him upset and blush like this. Just Bucky and Steve. Yet... "So we've made love?" He asked, with no preamble about it. Simple questions so he could get simple answers. Maybe Steve needed him to be even more simple, since he kept making it complicated. "We've been intimate in a bedroom situation."

Steve could feel his ears beginning to burn as the flush moved up from his chest and beneath his sweatshirt collar, "Not exactly." He fumbled, squeezing his hands together tightly, feeing his skin buzzing to his very fingertips, "We had gotten close a few times-" His brows were furrowed, trying to swallow down the embarrassment of openly talking about something like this. "We would always stop because you were afraid it'd send me into an asthma attack." He explained when he noticed the furrowed look that Bucky was giving him, a frown forming on his lips. "You always worried too much." A barely there smile curving up the corners of his lips as he ducked his head down to hide it from view, remembering something like that warmed his stomach. Bucky might have mother-henned him about small things but… he was always so gentle with him.

Bucky frowned. That was not a straight answer, and that made irritation bubble in his stomach again. Was a straight answer so hard to get? Bucky knew he'd chopped off fingers in interrogation for information when it was going along the lines of this, and normally he would have hurt someone by now to get it. "But you said physical things!" He said, exasperated, and he turned in his seat now, undoing his belt so he could turn properly and look Steve in the eye. "How can you 'not exactly' do something physical? It's either physical or it's not..." His eyes were wide, expression distressed. He just wanted to know how close they'd been, was that seriously that hard to say? Steve was smiling though, and he was blushing, and Bucky couldn't discern what that meant because he was currently quite uniformed on the situation. 

Steve flinched back as his eyes rounded in surprise at Bucky's shout, reverberating off the windows and sounding much louder, he tried to recover quickly despite sinking further back into the leather seats that were increasingly becoming more uncomfortable to sit in. He knew he shouldn't feel threated but the way Bucky had turned in his seat suddenly, his expression looking fierce but flickers of confusion crossed his expression; Steve's fists balled in his lap as his muscles tensed. Tale-tale signs of flight or fight kicking in. "We never fucked." He yelled back, voice cracking as his heart began to thud, feeling a twist of shame brewing in the pit of his stomach. What did Bucky want from him? He was trying his best to accommodate and be aware of how Bucky might be feeling but Steve was beginning to feel a bit flustered; why did this matter now. 

Bucky immediately squared his shoulders a little bit and he felt himself seem to grow more defensive when he comprehended Steve's posture. The tension in the car was thick, it made it harder to breathe, and Bucky was not comfortable, and suddenly all his thoughts were one and he couldn't keep them in his head. "Then why do I want that whenever you touch me? I've-- I've been fucked when I didn't want it so many times, and now you come around and I can't get enough. It... It makes my head hurt, and I can't-- It's not something that computes. I want to care for you, and make you feel good, I just-- this is-- I- I--" And then his words were cut off suddenly, and his flight was kicking in, he turned away and shoved the door of his side open so roughly it creaked, and he slammed it as he stalked away, not able to get a straight answer, and he knew he wouldn't be able to and it hurt him... He went to the grass on the other side of the road and stood at them, both hands in his hair as he panted slightly. His skin was itching, he hated it. He'd upset Steve, but for some reason he didn't feel a compulsion to apologize. He wasn't going to apologize because Steve hadn't been giving him what he wanted and he didn't want to apologize for being mad at that.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe second chapter post as an apology, you guys are great :)

Steve's stomach tightened and felt his heart beginning to thud erratically against his ribs, a lump forming in his throat keeping him quiet. He had just sat there letting the words sink in and digest, feeling sick to his stomach in the process. This feeling so familiar to when they use to get into fights when they just couldn't agree over something-- but this was different. Things had escalated so quickly that it didn't process completely until the car door was slammed shut and he was left in the dark as he heard Bucky's muffled boot crunch against the ground and across the street to the opposite side where grass was overgrown and the threshold of the wooded area. It wasn't something that Bucky computed, like a machine. Steve bit own harshly against the inside of his cheek, tasting the bitter twang of blood; what would Bucky do if he went after him? He inhaled sharply and unbuckled his seat-belt with hands trembling with adrenaline, he shifted his weight to push open the backseat door. 

Standing and glaring at the grass didn't do much for very long, because he was still thinking too much, too much and he sat down suddenly, bringing his knees up and settling his head between them, holding his hair too. Support his head, make it more quiet. Make his thoughts go quiet. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to start taking slow, deep breaths, and he focused on the way the ground was digging into his backside, almost painful but just shy. He heard the car door open and didn't react. What would he even do? He didn't know what he was supposed to do anymore. Before this, it had been simple. Obey orders, then, protect Steve. Now he was feeling so many things and he had so much freedom and he didn't know what to do with it. It was overwhelming him.

Any semblance of anger or frustration depleted immediately once he was outside of the car, his eyes adjusting to the dark but focusing quickly on Bucky seated on the ground with his head between his knees, his back visibly heaving as he gripped at his hair. His heart was still hammering against his chest but his brows furrowed with worry-- Bucky looked like he was in the midst of a panic attack. Steve moved quickly across the road, no worry of any cars coming by them by how far out in the countryside they were. "Bucky-" He rasped out softly, trying to keep the growing anxiety from his voice as he finally reached him and hurriedly kneeled in front of him, his knees digging into the grass and rock imbedded in the frosted dirt. He hesitantly reached out his hands to place them over the trembling ones gripped into his hair, "Bucky, you're okay." Those words were almost a false sense of security when things were really not okay. His eyes stinging slightly from the biting chill and the swelling emotions mixing in his chest.

Bucky felt himself flinching when Steve touched him, but he didn't know how to reply. What was okay? He certainly did not feel okay, if that was supposed to be a reassuring thing. He hated what he was feeling, because he wanted to press into the touch on his head but he didn't know what it was. He didn't know enough words from this life of freedom to even try and think what he was feeling. He just shook his head, trembling all over, and now he was staring wide eyed at the road, not able to look up at the blond who was trying to help him. Help him, after he'd yelled and been rude. Why would he? "You're going to get cold. Go back to the heater," he felt himself saying, knowing Steve's sweatshirt was not enough. 

There was no real force behind the command that was croaked out, his voice trembling, "I'm not going back unless you are. You freeze, I freeze." He continued to rub his hand down his upper arms and back down trying to cause a warming friction- Bucky was probably better off than him with the thick combat jacket and boots compared to Steve's thin sweatshirt and jeans. His cheeks were flushed with wind chaff and his nose was beginning to run with the frigid wind, but despite that he leaned in and pressed a firm kiss against the crown of his bowed head. "I know this makes no sense but I'll be whatever you want me to be. I'm always going to be here with you." He was fumbling was more, shoulders quaking lightly with the chill, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Bucky's broad shoulders.

It didn't make sense. How could it make sense? Bucky had yelled at Steve and he wanted to stay out here in the cold with him, he was kissing him still and trying to comfort him. It didn't make sense and Bucky had no idea who he wanted Steve to be. Just... He needed Steve to be Steve so he could take care of him. Always going to be here... Why did that echo around his head with a different set of words, he didn't know.... "I don't... Understand," he got out weakly after a few moments of silence and he looked up, his own cheeks a little flushed too, thanks to the wind as well. "I cannot make anything make sense in my head and it hurts trying." See? That was a straight answer, that was telling it like it was. It was not hard.

Steve released Bucky quickly, he had not realized how closely he was clutching to him until he felt him raise his head and speak directly against his ear, "Then, I'm just you're friend. That's what I am." Steve didn't know what else to say to him, there would be no point in trying to explain what they had been because even Steve didn't really know himself. He rubbed his hands together to warm them a little but that hardly did anything for his sore pink skin. "Let's get back to the car, Buck." He tried again, giving him a meek smile before shifting his weight to stand up. They weren't going to get anywhere with this if they were just going to freeze outside.

Friend. Just his friend. That wasn't true. There was no way that they were just friends. What he was feeling definitely wasn't simple friendship. He might not have had an in depth understanding of what friendship was and what it entailed, but he had a basic grasp and he knew that this wasn't it. But Steve was freezing and it was rather cold, and they had to get back to the car before the last dregs of winter caught them up in her hands and chilled them to death. "Let's go back to the car," he mimicked, and he managed to get his creaking bones to work, managed to get himself into standing and he was holding Steve's hand just slightly to lead him back over across the road, and he opened the back door for the blond, grey eyes still distraught but more calm. He had to be calm for Steve. Had to get Steve to the safe house. And then they could have space from one another.

Steve was being led by the hand back to the car across the street, the dark had settled thickly around them and along with it colder air. When they had reached the car Bucky had opened the passenger door for him but Steve gave his hand one last lingering squeeze before releasing it. Before he turned to get in the car he reached forward and brought Bucky into a tight hug, "We'll discuss this more later, alright?" He said this softer against the shell of his ear, their chests pressed together trapping what body-heat remained between them. "As soon as we get there, even. If you want. Or not at all." He wanted to give Bucky the option, just in case if he weren't comfortable continuing on the topic. He gave another gentle squeeze, pressing a chaste kiss against his temple for the comforting contact despite it contradicting the just friends statement he had made. He pulled his arms back and stepped away so he was able to turn and get into the car.

Bucky stood basically stock still while Steve hugged him, kissed him, and promised him things. If they talked about it more, would Steve give him straight answers? That's all his wanted. His thoughts were wrapping and twisting around and around in his head and only those would untangle them from the birds nest that was created. "Okay," he said, in reply to it, because they would wait and see. Bucky needed to go but groceries and exchange a lot of money so he could buy it, he needed a few burner phones and some new weapons, too. He wanted to get them as soon as possible. "We'll see." And he stepped away when Steve did, slightly irritated that Steve had left the door open and let all the heat out, while also pleased with the contact that had just happened even if he was confused by it. And he climbed into the front seat and double checked the heater was on full before clicking his belt in, and restarting the car.

Steve secured the seatbelt across his chest once more as the care was started up, "Can I not sit up there with you?" He asked idly, rubbing his hands together to gain the warming friction. Shifting his weight against the seat his joints kind of hurt from the prolonged exposure to elements he was honestly not too use to. He wet is cracked lips before looking up to the rear-view mirror trying to catch Bucky's averted gaze. He wasn't sure if he would even want to discuss anything when they reach the safe house, or if he'd just drop everything and keep everything to a certain point of professionalism.  
"You're less likely to be seen in the back seat, the tint of the windows is a lot darker," Bucky said, and he did look at Steve for a brief second before fixing his eyes back on the road rushing under the car. "You are less of a target and they'll see me first." Again his tone was similar to how he spoke when he first came into Steve's home. Monotonous, soft. Unfeeling. They would get to the safe house, and then he'd go get what they need and then he wouldn't have to worry about it. Steve would be safe and he'd be allowed to stop thinking.

Steve just gave a short nod and kept his mouth shut, noticing the shift in his tone. He had never felt like he wasn't able to say something to the other man but now he felt like he had to tip-toe around the subject and be careful of what he said around him. His chin ducked down and crossed hi am loosely against his stomach. Once they reached the safe house he was probably going to unpack his things and wait for Bucky to return like a dog. There was an obvious language barrier now that they were in Russia so it wasn't so easy just for him to leave-- then again was he even allowed outside of the house without Bucky being there? 

The rest of the drive was completed in silence, and Bucky wasn't planning on breaking the silence. He didn't mind. Casual chitter didn't aid the mission, so technically to participate in it would just be a waste of resources and energy. So the warm got steadily warmer, and he finally turned down another road, more unkempt now than what they'd been driving on. His expression was stony, and eventually they pulled in a tidy little drive, pebbled with white stones, and they led to a little wooden cottage thing. It seemed as if to have just grown up from the ground out in the middle of nowhere. Except for the light from the closest town glimmering on the edges of the landscape, it was the only thing visible. "It's not much, but it's safe." He said softly, and then he was opening the door and getting out, expecting Steve to take initiative and follow after him. Bucky would have to start the fire and light the candles around the home, but it wouldn't take long. It would all work out, Steve would have a shower and settle into bed properly, Bucky would go out and get what they needed and it would be okay. He made a beeline for out of the front door, eager to get settled.

Steve roused awake from the slight doze he found himself in as they finally stopped at what he assumed was their destination, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckled before unhooking his seat belt. A small smile formed on his lips despite himself at the soft tone Bucky had spoken in compared to the more frazzled anxious one he had earlier on the road side. Pushing open his door to follow Bucky's lead, he heard the trunk pop before the driver's door shut back; taking this as a cue to make his way to the backside of the car and grab his luggage, hefting it out by the handle to set beside him on the ground as he shut the trunk back. Grabbing onto his suit case to begin carrying it towards the rickety front porch of the modest looking wooden cottage; he hummed but couldn't deny the fact it did have a little charm to it. 

The door was unlocked. Bucky had decided that if anyone who wanted to hurt them actually found out where they were, no lock or alarm system would stop them, so what would be the point? He got inside and moved around the house with ease in the dark, however, and immediately found a place to settle his thing so he could start lighting up the cottage. He had done and started half of the gas lamps by the time Steve was in the front door threshold, and he took a slow breath in, hoping he liked it. Compared to the cars and the planes... Basically this was... Basic. Soft couches with muted colors, carpet that shifted underfoot, a fire place in the main seating area and a little kitchen with modest appliances. Bucky had turned the hot water on, too. Down the little hallway there was one bathroom, a little study room and then one single bedroom. Cozy. Safe. Bucky's home. "The water will be warm enough for a shower in fifteen minutes. There is no food in the pantry or fridge so I'll have to go shopping to buy some. In the study there are lots of books to read, and on good days a little television will work just beside the fire place. Your room is down the end of the hall, and the bathroom is halfway down the hall, you won't miss it." He said, and he was knelt in front of the fire place getting it to start. "This is where you'll always be safe."

Bucky had already made his way into the cottage by the time Steve was hefting his suitcase across the doorway, he felt instantly at home as the interior was being lit by the soft glow of the growing flames from the fireplace. He sat his things down beside a comfortably worn looking couch and rubbed his hands together to gather some warmth in his frigid fingertips. "Do you not want to shower before you head out?" He asked a bit hesitantly, not really sure if Bucky was being less blunt with him or if he had mellowed out a little more since arriving at the safe house. He took a few steps closer and squatted next to him in front of the fireplace where it was warmer. "I'll feel a little more comfortable if you'll settle in for a bit with me so we can gather our bearings. We've been going nonstop since we left Brooklyn." He insisted, shifting his weight slightly to bump their shoulders together lightly, a small smile on his lips.

Bucky listened to Steve bustle around and he stayed watching to make sure that the flame took hold in the fireplace, and he felt Steve lean against him and his expression remained impassive as he straightened into a stand, looking down where Steve was knelt down. "We slept on the plane." He said, to rebuke the blond's statement, going to his bag to get some more weaponry and he needed to choose a certain amount of money to keep for when they went home they needed some. He started to take rolls of cash out that he would convert into rubles in town. "You will be comfortable enough and I can settle when I get home and after you've eaten. You should try to sleep, get your body clock adjusted." He tucked the money he'd decided to save under the closest couch, tucked under the cushions easily then putting the bag with the rest of it over his shoulder, looking over to Steve, and he paused. "It's okay, yeah? If I go."

Steve bristled at how easily he was brushed off, not looking back at Bucky as he stood and started to walk away behind him, "Okay." He said simply, his tone a bit mocking of the stoic attitude coming from the other man, he adjusted his kneel into a crossed leg sitting position in front of the fire place while he stretched out his hands easily--palm side out as the light flickered across his skin. Bucky was treating him like a mission again and he wasn't really sure how to react to it so he decided to keep as non-confrontational as possible; he wasn't going to give him an opportunity to chastise him for stepping out of bounds of what Buck was comfortable with. He wasn't sure what Bucky was rummaging around behind him with but he kept his back to him and hummed in response to whatever else he was saying to him. "Yeah, you can go." He murmured, a part of Steve was beginning to regret coming along and dropping his life despite the danger that what threatening it.

"I won't be long. Make yourself comfortable," Bucky said, with a tight nod to Steve's back, and... now there was a different feeling in his gut, different to his compulsive confusion or swirling happiness. It hurt, made his chest constrict, and for now, the only thing his mind offered to try and relieve how it stabbed in his stomach was a soft, "I'm sorry, I don't know what to do." And then he was stepping out the door and closing it behind him, wanting the calm of doing his own mission, not wanting to think about how interaction ruined his mind.


	13. Chapter 13

True to his word, Bucky was back within the hour with everything he'd wanted, and he started unpacking the huge amount of groceries he'd bought with his money he'd converted and also stolen. He had new weaponry too that he was saving for last, and he didn't make any announcement of his return, methodically going to the bench and setting bags down, then going out to the car and getting the rest, until all the bags were over the kitchen and he could start packing the cupboards and fridge, his mind peaceful and quiet. This was easy, not much thought and no feelings involved, this had calmed him. He was okay, he was going to be okay if he was allowed to leave and not think.

Bucky blatantly apologizing before leaving had shaken Steve enough that his stomach twisted uncomfortably, he had almost gotten up to follow after him but knew that Bucky wouldn't have approved of him doing that; that kept him in his place until he heard the car drive off from the cottage. Inhaling a hitched breath, Steve got up from spot in front of the fire place and went about grabbing a pair of underwear and pyjamas from his suitcase before heading towards where he was directed where the bathroom was located down the narrow hall. He pushed open the door and sat down his things on the sink counter and switching on the dim overhead lighting. He didn't know when exactly Bucky would be back but all he knew in that moment was that he deserved to soak. Soak away the heat and muddled feelings knotted up in the cavity of his chest-- he wasn't really the type to take baths but why not?  

He had lost track how long he had been in the water, his head rested back against the porcelain edge of the tub. He was sure his fingers and toes had become pruned from the water despite it going cold in the last half hour or so, eyes slid shut against the lighting. He as somewhat aware of the bustling from outside of the bathroom but wasn't that alert in knowing that it was probably Bucky. Had he really been in there the majority of the time that he was gone? 

Bucky didn't know where Steve was, but the shower wasn't running and it seemed that everything was alright when he walked up and down the hall, after spending fifteen minutes making everything fit properly in the pantry. He'd tried to get as many items of food written in English but didn't do too well, luckily he found ones with the product pictured on the packaging, so hopefully Steve would be able to work it out. When he was done he went into the bedroom and changed from his combat clothing into long woolly pants and a large sweater, still all dark colors, but warmer and more comfortable. He made sure there was a weapon close enough for him to reach at any place in the home, and when that was done, went to the bathroom-- he could see the light coming out from underneath it, weak and barely running because he hadn't refilled the generator. He pushed open the door and settled his gaze on Steve in the bath, not affected at all by his nudity except for the fact that he went a little pink. "I can make some food before bed, if you want, otherwise the bed is made for you and I've cleaned up one half of the drawers so you can pack your things in there. There are coat hangers too," he informed, voice echoing a little bit around the room. 

Steve's breath caught in his throat when he heard the door being pushed open, his thighs squeezing together instinctively as his eyes slowly opened to trail over to Bucky standing in the doorway. He shifted his weight slightly the cold water sloshing around him with the movement, "I can help cook." He suggested quietly, voice hoarse from being mostly silent since the car ride to the cottage. "Where are you going to sleep." He said almost as an afterthought, sitting up more straight in the tub and reaching over the edge to grab the folded towel that he placed on the mat in front of the bath, pulling the plug with his other to begin draining to water out. He wasn't too uncomfortable with Bucky seeing him nude, it was almost second nature compared to situations they had been through before the war. Be it being pressed together for warmth or pressed together for entirely different reasons, it didn't weight too heavily on Steve, despite his skin flushed with ingrained embarrassment for his own shame.

"You can't read Russian recipes," Bucky pointed out with a little smile, only faint, and he traced the flush that danced over Steve's skin in mild interest, mostly curiosity. "Though I suppose I can help translate." He tapped his fingers on his leg a little, and leaned against the doorway carefully in a relaxed motion. He was home, and they were safe now. Bucky could keep them safe. "I'm going to make a bed on the couch. I don't sleep very much," he answered then, just like he'd been speaking before. He was watching the water now, happy to be doing just that and waiting for Steve. He had his clothes and towel, but maybe Bucky could help some other way. There was no steam in the bathroom, had Steve been taking a cold bath? "Are you warm enough?" He asked suddenly, brow pulling downwards a little. And oh, there it was... the emotions were back. The emotions were trying to plague him again. What was it about Steve Rogers that made him _feel_?

Steve gave a warm smile to the suggestion of reading out the recipes for him while the cooked together, the thought so domestic that it make his chest flutter. That was quickly replaced a moment later when Bucky said he would just sleep on the couch, "No, you'll share with me," he stated easily, there was no way Bucky would be on the couch the entirety of their stay here- that just wasn't fair. He shifted his weight to his knees and then was able to stand up full, wobbling a little to gain his balance from sitting down so long. He unfolded the towel and first gave his body a quick wipe down before putting it back to head to rub at the damp hair. He blinked and paused for a moment, "Warm enough?" He parroted back, his skin was prickled with goose bumps and his nipples were slightly perked but aside from that he wasn't too cold, but the way Bucky was looking at him didn't let him answer honestly. "Yeah, I'm pretty cold, Buck." He pursed his lips in a small from-- he wanted Bucky to take care of him,

That sounded like an order. An order to share the bed. Okay. That was easy enough. It would be warmer if they were sharing, definitely, and... It would be more comfortable, Bucky supposed. Though that wasn't what he needed to focus on. Steve was cold, and that-- no. Steve wasn't allowed to be cold when there was so much warmth and safety in his house. He walked forward immediately and took the towel, the space between them small as he started quickly drying Steve down, with fast, quick brushes to get every single bit of water off him. He took the blond's arm and made sure, his hair he did again quick too, trying to get some friction, and then he was dropping to his knees to dry Steve's legs and feet, so methodical in his drying that it was almost like he'd done this before. He hadn't, but he felt like the process of it was simple. "Will your pyjamas be warm enough?" He asked, drying Steve's knees and the back of them as best he could. "Do you need something more?" He looked up from his position, through his lashes a little bit as he started on Steve's thigh. Steve wasn't allowed to be cold. Bucky would help him be comfortable. That was the mission.

Steve was a little taken back he hadn't expected Bucky to come close and take the towel to finish drying him off, he leaned into the touch as he rubbed the rough fabric against his hair. He stood still as he dropped to his knees in front of Steve and rubbed up his calves- all of this was so familiar and second nature to Bucky that it formed knots in his stomach and his eyes stung a little from the swell of emotions. "Warm me up, Bucky." He croaked out, voice cracking as his fingers curled into loose fists to keep his hands from reaching out to cup the sides of his face. He felt like the scrawny punk in their small shared bathroom that the whole tenant building used communally. Bucky had always went the extra mile to make sure Steve had been warm and comfortable to keep the risk of sickness at bay by bundling him in layers of clothing and sleeping in the same bed. Steve bit his lower lip, watching Bucky work methodically by drying his skin and working back up his lower stomach, looking up at him from beneath thick lashes.

Once Steve was adequately dry, Bucky wrapped the towel around his shoulder's tight and nodded to himself, bending over to get Steve's pyjamas for him and he set them in Steve's arms. "Get those on, I will go find you a dressing gown and some socks and slippers, go and sit in front of the fire when you're changed I will be there making sure to stoke it up with your things," he said with a soft smile, just careful, before nodding and turning to go do what he was planning. This was easy, taking care of Steve. This wasn't too full of emotions, and Steve didn't try to bring emotions into it. His words had been a little unusual, like it was something he'd said before, but Bucky paid no mind to it. This was okay and he could take care of Steve.

He had leaned into Bucky as he was drying him off and then secured the towel around his shoulders with a pat, offering a small smile of his own at the process, "Thank you." He said genuinely, voice soft as he watched him leave the bathroom before he set the towel aside and begin pulling on a pair of blue boxer-briefs and then thick flannel pyjama pants over his narrows hips. He looked at the short sleeved cotton shirt and somewhat regretted it now in hindsight that he had packed it when he knew what weather to expect when they had arrived. He pulled it on over his head regardless and disposed of the towel in an old looking laundry basket before turning out the lights and leaving the bathroom to make his way to the living room to take his spot in front of the fireplace.

Bucky had got the fire roaring again by the time Steve reappeared, and he looked almost deadpan as he saw Steve's shirt. "You know I told you to pack warm, right?" He said in an almost casual manner as he held up the dressing gown in a way that Steve would be able to step into it and he wrapped it around the blond and securely tied it before gesturing for him to sit in the rickety lounger right in front of the flames. The best place to doze, he knew that much. He picked up the socks and slippers, kneeling in front of it and looking up to the blond. "Do you listen to anything I say to you?" He knew Steve did listen to him, but he said it with a lighter tone, a happier one, calmer and slightly playful. 

Steve gave a crooked grin and tugged lightly at the hem of his shirt, "If I did  _everything_  you told me, who would you have to nag then?" He teased and let him tie the waist of the house coat securely before ushering him over to a worn lounger that was surprisingly comfortable when he settled his weight against it. His feet moving to prod at his knees before one of his ankles were gripped firmly and lifted enough to support his heel against the top of his thigh. "Now you're just spoiling me, Bucky." His voice was warm as he spoke, settling back into the seat fully and letting shoulders sag comfortably, "How am I going to help you cook if you're just gearing me up for a nap?" He called the other out with a bigger grin, his eyes half lidded with laze- Bucky was being so gentle with him and how his attitude had changed slightly it was reminiscent of the humor he once had.

Bucky didn't really think at first, taking Steve's foot and tugging the sock up until it wrapped snugly around his ankle, and he looked up, still smiling, as he slid the slipper on and looked very pleased with himself that his own shoe size fit the other so well. He was... amused at Steve's reply-- emotions, emotions, warning-- He set the first foot down and did the same to that one as he did to the first, patting it and nodding his own approval to himself when that was ready too, and then once more he met Steve's gaze. "If you want to sleep I'll let you sleep and wake you up when food is made," he offered, sitting now more to the side to open up the full warmth of the fire place. "You do need to rest, Steve." He would always find things to nag Steve about, that was a feeling he had deep in his bones. 

"Nope, you're not getting out of translating for me that easily." He said brightly, wiggling his toes beneath the socks before tapping both of his feet against the carpet in front of the fire place in a small rhythmic motion. "I don't want you to feel like you've got to wait on me hand and foot." He added as an afterthought, he wanted to be some help around the house. He squeezed his forearms across his stomach to contain the warmth and slowly trail his gaze from the fire over to Bucky, "I'll go to bed when you do." He said softer. He was becoming a little more comfortable once more around the other man, easily falling into a routine that was hard to break. He wanted to move onto the floor and sit next to him by the fire, he wanted to be close. He wanted to touch Bucky. He felt like he wasn't able to touch him and he was  _right_  there. 

"I've already slept, Steve. I won't need to rest for a few days now," Bucky informed the blond, watching his skin tone change in the fire light beautifully, making him wonder why he considered such a man so beautiful in the first place. He ignored Steve telling him not to take care of him, because that was wasted breath. Bucky was going to take care of the blond whether he explicitly wanted it or not. No exceptions to it. Taking care of Steve was what felt right, what he knew he needed to do above all else. "You should sleep and I'll make you something to eat so you can have it as soon as you wake up." 

Steve pursed his lips, feeling like this was a wasted argument to be having with the other man. There was probably a high chance that he wouldn't win anyway- he gave a small huff before settling back against the cushion, "I'm not going to sleep, but I will stay right here. If you're so adamant about me staying put." He said a bit dryly, keeping his eyes locked on Bucky with a small frown, there was no real force behind his words but he would back off a little for now. "But, in exchange." He continued, keeping his focus on him, "I want you to come to bed with me when we're finished eating." He stated simply. 

Bucky couldn't help but feel at least a little triumphant at Steve conceding, and it made him smile just that tiny bit wider, too, contrast to what Steve's expression was in that moment. He huffed what could be classed as a laugh and stood, stretching and hearing some of his bones pop. "I will come to bed with you, but I can't promise that any sleeping will be done," he said honestly, still stretching out his muscles lithely, like he was some kind of cat. "I'm at eighty six percent, and that is a perfectly functioning level for around a week. I don't need any more sleep." 

"Can't promise any sleeping, huh? Well, I  _promised_  you'd be at one-hundred percent." He hummed softly, shifting his weight in the seat before looking up and locking eyes with Bucky, "So, we'll see about that." He gave a polite smile but there was a little more heat behind those words as he spoke. He still wasn't sure how he felt on the lines of Bucky referring to himself like some machine, but there was no way that he could function for a whole week on what little sleep he has had. He moved to stand up, shuffling his socked feet and securing the slippers before nodding his head to follow Bucky into the kitchen attached off to the side of the living room, "I said I wouldn't help out but that didn't mean I was going to stay put." He offered with another small smile in reply to the pointed look that was directed at him.  

Bucky snorted as he made sure the lamps were burning proper so he could see what he was doing, and he decided to get the recipe book to find eggs, and how to make them. He would never forget eggs, probably. Steve had made it so he would never forget eggs. "It's warmer in front of the fire," he informed, getting out one of the many cartons of eggs he'd bought, and the milk, pepper, salt, some herbs too, reading the recipe he'd propped up on the counter top by the lamp. "You said you were going to listen to me," he tacked on, too, glancing out the corner of his eye to the blond and smiling a little bit too. "What can I do with you if you don't let me keep you safe?" 

Steve rested against the kitchen counter with the edge pressed into his lower back as he watched Bucky pull out some eggs from the fridge and set them out along with a few other ingredients, a small curving at the corners of his lips. "I don't know, once you get the fire started to cook, I'm sure it'll get pretty toasty in here." He hummed softly, "I am listening to you, aren't I." He knew he was being a little smart-ass but he wanted to stay close to him, wanted to be in the same room and watch him go about doing normal things that seemed so foreign to the other man. His heart stuttered when he caught sight of the smirk on his full lips, averting his eyes quickly to focus half-heartedly on the propped up cook book. "What other place is safer then right by your side?" He murmured quietly, crossing his arms loosely against his broad chest.

Bucky thought that over pretty fully, thinking it through as he got a pan out and lit the little gas stove nodding. His little house ran off multiple sources of light and heat. And he liked it that way. Made it unique and special. And... That was what Steve deserved. He leaning in to read the Russian instructions and cracked all the eggs into the pan, watching then sizzle and hiss immediately-- he poured some oil in like he had done this a million time before. Steve was safest right by his side. That was very very true. "Correct. You are safest when I have you in my line of sight," he said, resolutely and sure. "However, you're needing to rest and you are also very distressed about some things-- not telling me is okay, but sleeping might make you feel better."

"Then let me stay by your side," he said this softly, watching Bucky read over the cookbook before adding a few things to the frying pan. "I'm not distressed." He tried to convince himself more than anything, he didn't want Bucky to feel like he needed to coddle him about his feelings, but Steve was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed about not being able to step up beside him and just stay close. "I'll go to bed when you do, tonight. Maybe we both need to just rest." Despite himself, he took a step closer and looked over his shoulder into the pan, smiling when he noticed that he was almost replicating the eggs he had made him when they first reunited not even forty-eight hours ago. 

Bucky found it easy, cooking. It was a task that didn't take much thinking, just following the instruction of the book, which was easy. Somewhat mind numbing. It was good. So he continued at it, the sizzling of the eggs comforting in a weird way. He was going to let Steve stay by his side, he wouldn't stop him if he wanted to feel safe. But he could feel the distress in the air, something Steve was feeling, though he didn't say anything again. He listened to Steve talk and let out a little breath. "I don't need to rest," he said again, because it was fact. He wouldn't need to rest for a while. "But I'll go to bed with you so you can rest. That is easy." 

Steve gave a small frown that Bucky wasn't able to see but was still evident in his tone as he spoke, "Promise me you'll sleep when you're tired, okay?" He bumped his shoulder lightly against his, careful not to jostle him as he cooked but took a step back so he wasn't crowding him as much and leaned back against the counter once more. He watched the broad lines of his shoulders shift and move underneath his sweater and couldn't help but absorb himself in watching his careful movements. His arms were crossed across his stomach, shoulders sagged and relaxed; this atmosphere was becoming so inviting and comfortable that he was quickly letting his guard down, a soft smile forming on his lips.

Bucky felt the nudge and for some reason it had him smiling even though he had heard some sort of upset in Steve's tone. The words bounced his mind for a little bit, as he thought them over. Sleep when he was tired. He did that anyway. It just took him longer to get tired. It was fine, he could do that. Breaking the sound of the sizzling eggs by saying, "I promise, Steve." He looked up briefly to look over his shoulder, nodding. "I'll sleep when I'm tired." Steve, he realized, looked better now though, and comfortable. Comfort meant safety, and he wanted Steve to feel safe. "Only if you promise to sleep too." He looked back to the pan now, adding some cheese now, the smell already filling up the room and making Bucky relax also.

"I promise." He reassured, the smile still curving the edges of his lips, he didn't think he'd have any issues easily falling asleep if Bucky were at his side. It was something that was that would always be comfortable for him; and he hoped it would encourage Bucky to get some sleep too without waiting unhealthy lengths before he deemed himself "tired". Trailing off his track of mind he sniffed at the air as his eyes rounded, "Wow, Buck. That actually smells amazing." His lips pursed in a little surprise, it defiantly smelled a lot better than his quick pan-fried eggs that Steve had served up in his apartment. The herbs more prevalent than anything and it made his mouth begin to water with sudden hunger that he didn't really feel before. "Are you almost done?" He spoke again, stepping away from the counter once more to retake his place beside Bucky, hovering behind him before finally resting his chin against his shoulder lightly.

Bucky was swift and precise with his movements, and they only served to be more confident when Steve complimented him. He soaked up praise like a sponge, and he nodded a little but when Steve came to his side and asked his progress. "I am.... done." He said brightly, and he flicked off the stove top and then brushed past Steve to get him a plate, and then he was brushing past him again to get him some bread to butter for him. "I hope it's as nice as it smells, I don't cook often," he said, putting the bread in the toaster and he should've done that while he was cooking but he hadn't been thinking that far ahead, comfortable in the moment he had created. "How much are you hungry for?" He asked suddenly, fixing the blond with his grey gaze and looking genuinely interested so he could serve the right amount. 

Steve enjoyed the small brushes of contact as Bucky flitted around the kitchen to finish getting things together, "I know it's going to be great, Buck." He made little attempts to push up against Bucky each time he passed by, "I think I can eat a few eggs, two pieces of bread." He wasn't going to gorge himself but he wasn't going to be shy about how suddenly hungry he was the more he watched Bucky cook and the aroma of fresh bread being toasted. "I could probably live off of breakfast food." He said honestly with a sheepish smile, couldn't count how many times he had only eaten mostly oatmeal or cereal some days when he was at home by himself. He stepped over to help him get some plates down, bumping their sides together but not moving away so that their sides were pressed flush together, "Did you get some jelly?" He asked as an afterthought.

Bucky didn't comment on Steve wanting to be close to him, he was allowed to want that contact and Bucky wasn't my going to be the one to tell him to stop, because a part of him liked it too. The measurement of eggs was a little difficult to decide thanks to the meal being scrambled but Bucky supposed he could make an estimate, and when the plates were out he buttered the two pieces Steve wanted and then covered them in 'a few eggs' of the brew. He packed up the butter but left the knife out for Steve to use and also got him a fork before sliding it across the countertop to be at the little one stooled breakfast bar. "I bought three jars of jelly, each different pink berry flavors..." He informed as he found a container to keep the left overs of what he'd made in until they were eaten. "I like jelly," he added, smiling to himself as he started to clean.

Steve smiled thankfully before moving to take a seat at the breakfast bar, grabbing the fork Bucky had slid over before looking up to see him putting things away, "You've always had a sweet tooth," he informed teasingly, situating his plate in front of him and gripping the fork carefully, scooping some eggs onto the prongs and bringing them up to his lips to blow lightly before taking a bite. His cheeks watered as a muffled groan emitted from his throat, "Oh wow, Bucky." He said through a mouthful, yeah his ma' had taught him better manners but being around Bucky he had lost a little of that etiquette. He swallowed and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, "You're in charge of eggs from now on." He watched the muscles beneath his sweater as the shifted with the movement of scrubbing out the pan. "Do you want a bite?" He asked almost hesitantly, stabbing into a larger piece of the scramble and holding it out above his plate. 

He'd always had a sweet tooth... Had he? That was interesting... He did like the jelly the best out of the things he'd tried at Steve's... That was interesting. He was scrubbing the dishes now though, and he was listening to all Steve said while he ate the first bite. He liked it! Good. That was good. The groan had his stomach twisting around himself a little and he looked over his shoulder to appraise the blond with his gaze, a soft smile on his lips. That was a good compliment. Bucky liked being told he was good. And he was good at making eggs. Then Steve was offering him a bite of the eggs and he didn't really want to say no. He wanted to see if they were as good as Steve's reaction had deemed them to be. So he came over, dish towel still in hand, and took the eggs off Steve's fork with his teeth, slowly so as not to burn his tongue. He chewed, contemplated, and then gave a nod. "It's not bad," he said with another little smile, pleased with his own work silently. "Though your eggs were just as nice," he added, going back to drying the dishes and putting everything away.

Steve offered a sheepish smile at the compliment, "Kind of the only thing I've mastered cooking aside from spaghetti." Which was something Natasha had shown him how to make when she found out he was living off of breakfast foods and smoothies for the first few months that he had been off the ice. He wet his lower lip after watching Bucky take a bite off the fork and chewed thoughtfully; Steve pushed the thought of moving across the counter top to grab the collar of Bucky's sweater and yank him forward; he wanted to taste the salt on his lips. The tips of his ears burned, ducking his chin down and taking a large bite of his buttered toast to keep his mouth occupied and give him something to focus on. Easily finishing off the rest of his plate and dabbing at his full lips with the napkin slid under his plate before he pushed the stool back to stand up. He felt a little pathetic just standing there and letting Bucky do all the cleaning, "Here, let me help." He said softly, bumping his hip against his so he could squeeze in beside him and begin rinsing off his plate.

Bucky could feel the atmosphere in the room change, but he didn't comment on it, not wanting to make Steve feel uncomfortable or anything. He just continued washing up, and when he was nearly done, just wiping down the bench, Steve was brushing up next to him. Trying to wash his dishes. He obviously wanted to, so Bucky stepped to the side, nodding. "Of course, Steve," he said obediently, but he said this with another soft smile, wiping down where Steve had eaten now and then grabbing the dish towel again so he could dry. "You know, this is your... days off." Bucky said after a long moment of thought. "You don't have to do the dishes if you don't want to do them. I will do them for you." Bucky wanted Steve to be relaxed, not worried about whatever chores that needed to be done. "There are lots of books here you could read instead."

 


	14. Chapter 14

Steve finished off wiping down his plate before setting the dish into the drying rack next to the sink, patting his hands dry on the rag hung over the edge of the counter before turning back to Bucky, "I want to be as much help as possible, I can pull my own weight around here, too." He said a bit stubbornly, his skin still a little flushed with color from the shift in tension, his heart beating rhythmically against his ribs. He rubbed his damp palms together and took a step closer into his space near the breakfast bar where he was wiping the surface of the counter down. "I thought you wanted me to head straight to bed after we ate?" His lips pursed a little, he wanted to get into a more comfortable setting where they both didn't have to worry about cleaning or any other prior responsibilities. He thought for a moment before reaching out for his flesh hand, giving a small tug, "Let's go to the bedroom, Bucky." He said a bit softer, his blue eyes rounded.

Bucky looked down at where Steve took hold of his hand, and he reached around the blond to throw his cloth into the sink, and he met the blond's gaze briefly. He had wanted Steve to go straight to bed, and now they had that chance. "There is a toothbrush in the bathroom you can use," he said, his own expression mirroring Steve's and becoming more innocent as he widened his eyes a little bit too. He'd been taught vigilant hygiene for his necessities while under Hydra for sometime as training, mostly in his first years, and those habits he'd learned had come back now that he had a chance to think for his own. "Brush our teeth and then go to bed?" He offered, smiling a little now, wanting his... mission to be comfortable and happy. That was the mission, now. It was always the mission.

Steve noticed the facial changes and tightened his grip on his hand and smoothed his thumb over his knuckles, "Brush our teeth and off to bed." He reassured him, his expression softening. He knew that it was important that for Bucky to take the lead with these decisions so he could become more comfortable with making them without asking first. He wanted to pull his hand up towards his face and kiss the knuckles that were still lightly bruised but restrained himself with one last squeeze and pull towards the threshold separating the living room from the kitchen. "Are you sure you're not hungry, before we settle in?" Bucky had not really joined him to eat but he had not particularly voiced any hunger. 

"I am not hungry, Steve," Bucky replied, and he turned so his metal hand was on the small of Steve's back and he was ushering him forward. They had things they needed to do. Bucky had eaten twice already in the past thirty six hours. He didn't need to eat again for a while. Besides, what he'd eaten had been in large portions, sweet and lots of it, so he still felt like he was very full from it. So he kept Steve walking forward, assuming that Steve would kept at it unless Bucky very swiftly shut down the notion that they had the same needs. "What side of the bed do you like to sleep on?" He asked then, as they got to the hall, past the fire. It was important information, he'd decided, and wanted Steve to choose the side. Bucky would need to shut up the fireplace and turn of the lamps, but he could do that while Steve brushed his teeth or something. 

Steve gave a small frown but relented when he felt Bucky's metal hand press against his lower back and push him forward lightly but left it there to guide him towards the bathroom, his skin warming from the contact, "The left side, if I had to pick." He sometimes just sprawled out in the middle of the bed when hews feeling particularly greedy. When he and Bucky use to share a bed when it was in the dead of winter, they would mesh flush together underneath layers of blankets and clothing that it was hard to tell which side they were on. Steve moved a bit closer to the other and bumped their hips together lightly with a small smile before they made it to the bathroom, the door still open from where he had took a bath when he had first arrived.

Bucky nodded slightly, and deposited Steve at the door of the bathroom and ushered him with his left arm again but also stepped away from him. "I will go make the bed up so it is comfortable for you," he said with a little nod, leaving Steve to do his toothbrushing business in peace. Besides, he liked this. Taking care of Steve was a lot calmer, and a lot nice than what Hydra made him do. He liked this more. So much more than what Hydra wanted of him. He would do this happily for the rest of his days if he never had to worry about being such a killing machine ever again.

"Make it so you're comfortable, too!" He called out from inside the bathroom as an afterthought, Bucky was going to be in the bed also, but he knew from experience that Buck could fall asleep in a chair and be comfortable as to where Steve would have woken up with sore aching muscles if he just lay crooked. He easily found the unused toothbrush upright in a cup beside the sink, plucking it out and wetting it under the water before grabbing the tube of new toothpaste beside it. He set out to begin brushing his teeth, glancing up and locking eyes with himself in the reflection of the mirror, pausing and taking in how flushed and warm he looked; he looked happy. He coughed when he accidentally swallowed down some of the foam before spitting and rinsing out his mouth and the toothbrush, setting it back into the cup and averting his eyes from the mirror. "How's...how's the bed coming along, Bucky?" He turned so his back was facing the mirror, he still felt a little uncomfortable openly looking at himself in the mirror, he'd rather just not. Crossing his arms loosely against his chest and stepping forward to peek around the corner. 

Steve obviously thought he was incompetent or something, asking him to make it comfortable for the both of them as well. He was making a small double bed, it would be impractical to only put sheets to one side and only make one side comfortable. The idea had him smiling to himself as he changed the sheets to winter sheets, even though it was spring it was still cold and would be for a few more weeks until summer decided that maybe it wanted to be around. He changed the pillows so they were bigger and fluffier, and also got the duck down duvet he'd managed to come across while setting up the cottage. "The bed is coming along fine, Steve. It's just a bed," he informed the blond, chuckling to himself as he set about tucking the edges in. There wasn't really much space on this bed, truly, it was a little double bed, but he supposed Steve wouldn't mind. On a whim, he didn't look over his shoulder as he asked, "How is brushing your teeth coming along?" He grinned a little to himself, thinking that he was rather funny... Yes. He could make jokes. That was okay. 

"Who knows, maybe there's monsters under the bed you'll have to protect me from." He said a bit sarcastically, wiping his mouth with the back of dressing gown sleeve, partially to hide the smile evident on his face. He stepped out of the bathroom to make his way down to the end of the hall where the bedroom was, "Brushing my teeth is harder than it looks, I almost choked." He teased stepping into the bedroom and leaning back against the doorframe. "Let's see you manage any better." He challenged with no real heat behind his tone, the smile still evident at the curves of his lips. He looked over the bed and nodded his head, Bucky had made the double bed look plush and inviting. He stepped closer to him, invading his space a little as he bumped their shoulders together, "Good work in here, Buck."

When Steve entered the room, Bucky was snickering slightly, but it didn't feel exactly right just yet. Humor, but he still didn't understand it fully. He felt Steve bump him, and he didn't mind, he was bending over to look under the bed, and he paused, actually flicking his eyes up and down. Nope, only guns there. "No monsters, Mr. I Can't Even Brush My Teeth," he said with a bright grin, and he was going over to the left side of the bed to pull back the covers. Steve had praised him on his bed making, which made him silently preen, and he nodded slightly. "All you have to do is climb in. I have to get into sleepwear, so I'll do that now," he said, brushing past Steve again to get to the closet. They'd be touching a lot, Bucky concluded, because of the small space, so he'd decided to get used it to. As well as Steve insisted on brushing into him at every moment. He started pulling off his clothes with no craving for modesty, and he was shirtless as he started peering through what he could wear.

"Oh, thank you for checking, Bucky." He said with a mock sense of gratitude, knocking back against him lightly when he brushed by, "Jerk." He murmured under his breath with a small grin, feeling a little embarrassed when Bucky had even pulled back the sheets for him. He nodded his head and made his way over to his side of the bed before stepping out of the slippers and pulling himself onto the bed. He shifted his weight and pulled the thick quilted down comforter over his lap and focused his attention back on the other man. His eyes rounded, feeling a flush build up his neck and color his cheeks as his eyes locked on the broad expanse of Bucky's back. He wet his lower lips before averting his eyes; what was he getting so flustered about? Bucky had seen him completely nude just a few hours ago when he had come into the bathroom while he was bathing. His fingers curled into the fabric of the blanket as he tried to focus his attention elsewhere. "Nothing too thick or we'll burn each other up in our sleep." He said in a sheepish tone, trying to alleviate the twist of pressure in his chest.

Bucky settled on leaving himself shirtless and wearing loose boxers, taking Steve's advice very seriously, and he knew how warm that comforter could get and he already knew how warm Steve was when he pressed up to him... He turned and shut the closet, also went to flick off the light, not missing the flush on Steve's cheeks just before he did. He wandered over to the bed and crawled into his side of the bed, already managing to relax into this bed, because this was his bed. His comfort place. He stayed squished to the side of the bed he was in. He didn't want to invade Steve's space at all, and he didn't want to make him overheat, so he curled up a little bit... "Sweet dreams to you, Steve," he said softly, into the darkness, for some reason very aware of the presence next to him. He just wanted him to sleep well, and he wouldn't sleep tonight himself, but he could make sure Steve slept.

Steve's breath hitched when Bucky pulled the blanket back enough to get into the bed beside him, bare except for his underwear and successfully staying as far on his side as possible. "Sweet dreams, Bucky," he had shrugged out of the dressing robe to dispose of it on the floor beside the bed. Left only in his flannel pyjama pants and a cotton t-shirt, Steve shifted into a position to lay one his side, facing Bucky in the dark. His skin was still heated, wetting his lower lip and becoming hyper aware of how little space there really was between them. He hesitantly moved his leg underneath the blanket and hooked their ankles together, giving a light tug. "Come closer, Bucky." His voice soft as he spoke, lips pursed. The cottage was quiet around them, it was just the two of them now and Steve could feel his heart begin to beat erratically against his ribs.

Steve had taken the robe off, Bucky knew that from the sounds that came around in the little room. And they were warm, so warm here under the covers even though the temperature in the little cottage room had made his skin get goose bumps and chilled him. So very warm... Steve was touching him now, their legs, and it was a direct order... He shifted and scooted until their skin was almost touching, assuming that was what Steve wanted, and he moved so their legs, almost touching at the thigh, were together. "Yes Steve," he murmured, keeping his head tilted down so he was looking at the covers. If he looked up he would be able to feel Steve's face so close to his own, so close and with his thudding pulse and an ache in his chest, he wasn't sure what would happen if he did. 

As Bucky scooted closer and their bodies came more in contact, Steve could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he was sure it was probably audible in the quiet bedroom and them being so close. "Is this okay?" He asked softly, barely above a whisper as he shifted a little more towards him, brushing his lip against his brow bone where his head was ducked down. He craved this close contact. He needed it. His breath caught as Bucky remained silent, pressing one more kiss against his forehead. "Thank you- for everything." He knew it was a little odd to be thanking him now but it felt like a good time as any for all that Bucky had done for him since reuniting at his apartment despite what they both had been through. He pulled away slightly to give the other a little more space between them, though their legs were still tangled underneath the blankets.

Bucky wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he knew that it was neither here nor there on the scale of things that were okay. Because his skin was hot, and his body was on fire underneath it and he knew that he hadn't been under the covers long enough for this to be because of that. "I don't know," he said, but his lips barely moved and Steve must not had heard him, kissing him... he didn't like feeling because it was so foreign and he didn't know what to do with it. Thanking him, pulling away, Bucky gave a minimal nod, grey eyes blown black in the darkness to try and see but he wasn't looking up to see it, he wouldn't. "It's the mission, sir," he said, nervous and unsure and resorting back to what he knew. "I will do the mission no matter what." He shifted a little bit, tense now and very much awake... he wondered if Steve could feel it too...

His stomach clenched at the lost tone, "Don't-" he tried to grasp for the words that were escaping him,"Say my name." His voice cracked pathetically, his brows furrowed and was almost thankful that it was too dark for Bucky to see the saddened expression down turning the corners of his lips. His hand reached out between him and rested against his cheek, "Please, don't shut me out, Bucky." He wasn't sure he could handle being closed off again, biting down on his lower lip to keep his voice from quivering. He inhaled deeply to collect himself and managed a meek smile despite Bucky not being able to see it. He smoothed the pad of his thumb against his cheek bone as their breaths mingled, Bucky wouldn't raise his head to look at him, but that was okay. He wasn't getting up to leave. This was okay. This was enough.

He hadn't even noticed his slip up, but there was such tension between them that he was sure a knife could've cut it. _Say my name_. He wasn't supposed to shut him out... But if he wanted to stop feeling he had to stop it all. Feelings were too much. They were overwhelming and he didn't know what to do with them. Especially when they coiled in his gut and danced around his veins. He didn't know what they meant. He didn't know. _Say my name_. He turned his head a little bit to feel Steve's hand more, and he was clutching the sheets tightly in his hands. Anchor. Anchor-- too many emotions yet Steve could be his anchor. _Say my name_. "Stevie Rogers..." He murmured very very softly, not even caring if Steve heard him or not. He'd completed the order... That was enough.

His breath hitched as his lips trembled, "Bucky Barnes." He parroted, voice rising in pitch but still cracking a little in the suffocating silence in the room. "James Buchanan Barnes." He tried again, tasting the name thick on his tongue, his heart flitting against his throat. He shifted a little closer as their chests were almost flush together beneath the blanket, "Bucky." He was fumbling over his words now but he couldn't stop himself from saying his name; he wanted it to sink in that Bucky was a person. His friend. His-- a choked whine escaped him. He pressed a quick set of barley there kisses against his cheek and let his lips linger there a moment longer, his hand had slid down to cradle the side of his neck with loose fingers.

Kissing him, right against him, kissing and touching and feeling. It wasn't working. Steve was not an anchor but a catalyst. Making the emotions more. Steve was the catalyst. "Steven Grant Rogers," he got out, feeling Steve's chest heave against his own, their legs entwined... This was the airplane all over again, it was this all over again. And Steve couldn't see that. Could Bucky see that? Did he want this to happen how the airplane had happened? "Stevie," he said again, and this was a whisper... He was feeling so much he couldn't keep it on a leash... feeling so much that he had to get it out... He didn't want it to stop this time. He wanted to _feel_. So he turned his head up and shut his eyes. He wouldn't initiate, oh god not in a million years. But he could let Steve do it. "Stevie," he said again, just a whisper of a breath. 

He choked out a small noise like it hurt, breath catching as he moved impossibly closer, "Bucky." He whimpered out softly, he had raised he head up but his eyes were still shut tight. Was this okay? He slowly moved the hand from his neck to slide down his arm until he gripped his wrist loosely and positioned it over his own hip so Bucky could have something to hold onto if needed; he could already feel his fingers curling tightly into the fabric of his pyjama pants. He replaced his own hand back against Bucky's cheek and cupped it gently, "I'm right here, Bucky." He soothed, their breath clashing as his legs intertwined tighter against his. "You can let go. You can do anything you want." He tilted his head up to brush his lips against his eyelid. Steve could feel their chests rising together in unison but it didn't calm his hurt anymore, it felt like his skin was on fire.

Bucky let Steve move him, compliant and confused, and unsure. But he used it as an anchor, immediately clutching at him and making a small noise in the back of his throat. And then his eyelids were fluttering, and he was turning his head a little, voice thick when he murmured his reply into Steve's palm. "I don't know what I want. How do I want?" He asked, and the question was genuine and slightly frightened. Their legs were now entwined enough that when Bucky shifted a little bit, their hips were aligned, and the heat was coiled in his gut and he made a small hissed intake of breath, swallowing and feeling his mouth open as he tried to breath enough to keep up with his racing heart.

"Do what your instincts tell you." Steve rasped out, breath hitching in the back of his throat when he felt their hips brush together in a jerk of movement. "Do you want to touch me, Bucky?" He asked almost desperately, his skin felt too tight and burning with heat as he tried to press impossibly closer, their heaving chests meeting at each sharp intake of oxygen. It felt like he couldn't get enough air, wheezing a little and feeling overwhelmed. He pressed his lips against Bucky's brow before trailing his lips down to kiss his warm cheek, "Touch… me, Bucky." He made sure there was no real force behind his words, afraid that it'd come of as an  _order;_ he wanted Bucky to know that this was up to him. If he wanted to pull away, he'd let him. But he hoped desperately that that wouldn't be the case.

Bucky didn't move by very much, he stayed frozen, feeling Steve's lips and then he was shaking his head, An order? Was that an order? He couldn't be sure, and he was worried that he'd be punished for not going through with it... But he'd never felt like this when he'd been ordered around before... It might not have been one. "I'm already touching you," he pointed out, eyes glued on Steve's face in the darkness. "We're touching everywhere." That definitely wasn't a lie, their bodies were almost pressed flush, so... 

Steve bit down into the meat of gis lower lip before whimpering out. "Kiss me?" He whispered out hesitantly, his voice cracking in question as he slid the hand from Bucky's cheek to press the flat of his palm against his chest, pressed between them. He could feel Bucky's heart thudding heavily against his chest. True to his words, they  _were_  flush against one another underneath the blankets, he could feel Bucky's fingers gripping tightly the fabric against his hip, "Please, kiss me Bucky." He choked out, breath hitching as his brows furrowed and his full lips damp and indented from where his front teeth had bitten down.

Bucky's response was to shut his eyes tight closed and make a small noise in the back of his throat. That wasn't an order either. He'd kissed Steve before, he realized absently in the back of his mind. He'd done it before, but... "I can't," he finally croaked out, and he suddenly was hiding, twisting and curling so he could hide his face in Steve's chest. That was allowed right? Steve sounded so wrecked and desperate, but Bucky felt it more. He felt it right in his soul. "I can't Steve, I'm sorry." His fingers were digging hard into the other's hip, and he was shaking, everything was so warm but not in the good way. It was just too much. "I can't," he repeated again, not wanting to pull away from the hiding place he'd found hiding by Steve's thudding chest. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay team so im start uni up very soon so i know i have very little time to edit and post even though im shitty at posting anyway
> 
> a forewarning that i have got this all chaptered, but to save on work i didnt read through to get rid of mistakes im so sorry and hope its not too bad without getting checked  
> that means there will be spelling mistakes or maybe formatting muck ups, and the words like /this/ havent been changed into proper italics, but at least the story is going out there!!!   
> Thank you so much for still reading and supporting, i hope the story still ends up okay!!!

Steve's stomach twisted tightly when the words reached him, making his heart flit and clench before he forced a weak smile that he was glad Bucky wasn't able to see clearly before he buried his head against his sternum. This was selfish of Steve, he was finally realizing. He was asking for too much and this wasn’t fair to Bucky. "I'm sorry." his voice barely above a whisper before he swallowed thickly, his skin still buzzing with electricity. He tensed before reaching his arm up and wrapping it around his broad shoulder to bring him in closer against his chest and keep him in place where his face was hidden. Steve was being selfish.

And he didn't know why it was this that did it, but Steve's arm around his shoulders made him relax entirely into him, still shaking but... not so tense that his whole body felt as if it would snap in two. From a taught wire to almost like a ragdoll. Steve's arm was protection from this all. He was supposed to be Steve's protection but he supposed Steve could protect him too. He shook his head slightly. Steve had obviously been getting signals from him or something... It must've been his fault, because there was no way that this was Steve's fault. He was the one feeling the fire in his gut, and under his skin. It can't have been his fault. But now that the tension was broken Bucky wasn't as stressed, and he nosed Steve's skin softly. "No, no, I'm sorry," he corrected, grip on Steve's hip loosening to something just like his fingertips were resting on the blond's pyjamas. 

Steve pulled him tighter against his chest to keep him in place, his eyes sliding shut as he pressed a kiss against the crown of Bucky's head, "I've missed you so much, Bucky." He breathed out hardly above a whisper, his voice beginning to tremble. He needed to get a grasp on him emotions and reel it in, he didn't want to pressure Bucky into just following what Steve asks of him in fear that he might lash out at him. He bit back an apology and pressed his nose against his hair, inhaling sharply as his breath hitched. "You can ask me anything, you know?" His voice was muffled where his head was tucked against Bucky, but had said it loud enough for him to make it out clearly.

Last time, asking questions hadn't worked at all, so Bucky was pretty set on not having a redo of what happened on the ride here. He shifted his arm so it was around Steve's waist now. Their legs were still pressed, and now their bodies were entwined more... "Okay Steve," he murmured. He wasn't going to ask questions because the answers he got were not good enough. They didn't tell him enough. "I understand." That was enough. He shut his eyes, mind still a little bit on overdrive but at least his mind wasn't screaming of his emotions weren't making it thud painfully. 

Steve's muscles relaxed a little more as Bucky shifted and wrapped his arm securely around his waist, "Okay, Buck." He parroted back, burying his nose further against the crown of his head, pressing another kiss into his hair. He squeezed his thighs lightly around Bucky's legs to keep them close, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he was holding as it wracked his frame, "I'm not even tired, now." He said a bit dumbly, a self-deprecating smile curving his lips as he sighed softly. He had worked himself up into a wakefulness that he was sure that he wouldn't come down from anytime soon, his heart just now calming in his chest.

"That's okay, Steve," Bucky said softly, and he was relaxed enough to curl into Steve some. While it seemed that Steve had worked himself up, a sensual high he'd been on and now the relaxation-- it was a roller coaster that had him feeling exhausted. "We can just lie here." He pressed his waist closer to Steve's and let out a few deep breaths, shutting his eyes. The kisses in his hair now served to calm him, not excite him. The mood that had been created was now gone. Steve was there to calm him. "We can lie here until you fall asleep." 

Steve's lips buzzed from the kisses, something inside him craved more than just these small pecks on the head. He wanted Bucky's lips against his if that's all he was allowed but even that was almost too much to ask for. It was hard for him to step back from something his body was conditioned to despite the time apart from one another. His arms tightened around him, but not enough to hurt, "You're going to spoil me like this, you know?" A small huff of a laugh escaped him, "I'm going to want to stay glued to you like this all the time." His chest swelled a bit when in reply Bucky just pressed closer to him, slotting their hips together snugly. 

"That would be an impractical way to function," Bucky replied analytically, feeling their hips together and letting out a small, breathy sigh of contentedness. He didn't realize he was doing it, but his hand around Steve's waist was drawing small, soft lines over the fabric of his pyjamas, absently and without thought. He didn't know why he would, it just seemed... Right. His eyes were shut and all he could know was Steve, and while it was somewhat aching to have his cuts and wounds pressed up to Steve like this, he knew they were healing so he didn't say a thing. He'd much rather have a small amount of hurt and be in Steve's arms then have no hurt and not be. So he hummed softly again, nose pressed to Steve's collar. "You need to sleep, now, Steve," he suggested, though it sounded more like it was Bucky who needed it, voice soft and words slightly slurred.

"I don't know; I think we could figure something out." He said with mock-seriousness, "Maybe you can carry me on your back?" He hummed in a thought, a teasing smile forming on his lips despite Bucky not being able to see it. His breathing hitched a bit when he felt fingers pulling across his hip and smoothing down the fabric of his pyjama pants before drawing small patterns against his hip. He squeezed closer, "How about you sleep and I'll keep watch over you?" He asked softly as he rubbed his cheek against the top of his head, "I'll stay right here, all night." He tried to convince, letting his own eyes begin to slide shut.

Bucky found himself huffing softly, and he rolled his eyes underneath his closed lids. Steve was so ridiculous sometimes, Bucky didn't understand him at all. He listened to the blond's suggestion of him sleeping, and he made a little face. "You have to sleep, Steve." He insisted again, frowning just a little bit and making a little grumbling noise in his throat. "I won't sleep if you don't." And he was comforted by the fact that Steve would stay with him, watch him and make sure nothing would happen. It was an unusual thing, to have someone watching your back. Well... for him, anyway. 

"Make me." He challenged half-heartedly, shifting his weight against him and letting his eyes slide open once more, adjusting his hips to slot closer to Bucky's. He bit his lower lip to contain a soft groan when he found himself grinding lightly against the thick muscled thigh wedged between his own. "I'm not sleepy." He almost whined like a petulant child, voice softer as he spoke, rocking his hips forward once more before stilling and playing it off as if he was adjusting his weight against the mattress. His fingers curled against Bucky's bare back and scratched blunt nails barely against his warm skin.

"Then I am not sleepy either," Bucky replied quickly, shifting also when Steve did. He was getting comfortable in the mattress, so if he stayed comfortable then the jet lag would catch up to him and he would rest. The fingers scratching his back just lightly felt amazing, and if Bucky could purr he probably would be doing so. His eyelids fluttered a little bit, and he did realize he was brushing his finger along the blond's skin. He didn't stop. Oh, how he could experience this non-hurtful touch for the rest of his days. It seemed so foreign but it was so perfect. Even when Steve's fingers accidentally pushed into an old wound, or bruises, even though that hurt a little, somehow, because Steve wasn't trying to be malicious, it didn't hurt. "I will be awake for as long as you are awake." 

"Then I guess we'll be up all night, then." He said with a hint of humor in his tone as he smoother the flat of his palm across the broad expanse of Bucky's back before trailing up and cupping his hip in the same place his was being rubbed. He was thoroughly enjoying the close contact between them, their body heats mingling. His fingertips teased at the waistband of Bucky's boxers before he gripped the elastic between his pointer and thumb and snapped it against his skin with a small grin. He did it once more before resting his palm against a hip bone and rubbing the pad of his thumb against the smooth skin there. "If we stay like this any longer, we're going to fuse together." A laugh bubbled up from his throat and was muffled where his head was tucked against the top of Bucky's.

Bucky could feel the light tone of their interactions now, and so he didn't mind the staying up all night-- that would be okay if they could stay like this-- or the playing of his waistband. The sound of it connecting to his hip was almost amusing, and in the dark the brunet felt his lips curl up slightly into a smile. A small huff of breath came out when Steve laughed, a little ray of sunshine despite the situation they had just escaped, and Bucky clicked his tongue slightly. "If we mix my ability with yours we would be the perfect soldier," he said with the same kind of tone but a more serious understanding behind it. Less joking. Because Steve had a freedom Bucky did not know, Steve had never been kept on a leash and he understood emotions and knew how to handle them. He knew his way around the battlefield like a true leader, but he did not have the same kinds of skill sets Bucky had, or the same kind of ruthlessness. If they were put together... All Bucky could say was that he'd want to be on their side. "Keep lying with me Steve, this is nice."

Steve pinched at the skin of Bucky's hip to distract him from the train of thought he was traveling down, "Couldn't get rid of me even if you tried." He replied softly as he pressed another lingering kiss against the crown of his head, he could feel Bucky's breath against his collarbone where the neck of his shirt dipped down a bit. Steve could still sense that Bucky was over thinking in his silence so he began to smooth his palm against his bare side over his ribs and move it to cup the back of his skull, combing his fingers through the hair now that it was loose from the elastic keeping it up earlier. He wet his lower lip while he continued to rub his head, "What are we going to do all night then?" He pursed his lips in thought and nudged Bucky's forehead with his chin.

Bucky let out a low hum as soon as his hair was touched and brushed through, his body relaxed even further and his fingers paused where they were on Steve's skin briefly before starting up again. His hair, used as a weapon or a way to control him. It felt amazing to have someone tender with him. "This is good," he breathed out, eyelids fluttering again, and how was he going to stay awake all night when Steve insisted on treating him like he was just as fragile as a normal person. "Why?" He suddenly asked, a smile that didn't fit his character now, but would've suited him more in the 40s. "Can't lie still for an entire night, Rogers?" He didn't know where the question came from, or the playful tone, or the accent, but it fit the situation, even if he did sound a little sleepy.

A full body tremble wracked his body in a slight jerk when he felt the hot breath damp on his neck when Bucky breathed out, and then spoke again that left his own breath catching slightly in the back of his throat. "You know you've never gotten me to sit still without a fight." Bucky was speaking so familiar now that it twisted tightly in the pit of his stomach, his fingers curling into his thick hair to have something to ground himself. He could still feel Bucky's fingers teasing at the skin exposed at his hip where the hem of his shirt was pushed up enough. He hesitantly ground his hips forward for that fleeting friction and contact he craved, "Like you were ever any better, Barnes." He murmured with a lack of heat as he ducked his head down enough to ghost his lips against his brow bone before kissing him square in the forehead. 

Bucky stayed still through every movement, any craving and need to reciprocate gone, all heat in his belly disappeared due to the fact that he found it too stressful. He just lay there, let Steve move and tremble and kiss without much of a blink. "I'm a trained operative, Steve," he said, voice going back to how it had been before without him even realizing it. "Lying still is a basic skill, and one you obviously do not possess," he said, with a huffed little laugh, face turned a little bit to stop his breath from condensing on Steve's collar. His left arm was tucked underneath him, settled between them now, and he wriggled his fingers a little.

Steve felt as if he would get whiplash with how quickly Bucky's demeanor would change, it was like he was sharing a bed with two different people. He swallowed thickly before turning his head away enough to rest his cheek lightly against the pillow and giving Bucky a little more space to breath and not be as smothered against his chest. "Maybe you should teach me then." He replied as an afterthought, his attention more focused on the movement between their chests, the moon light filtering through the window on Steve’s side of the bed catching the metal reflect of Bucky's left hand. If Steve didn't know any better he'd think one wrong move and that hand would be gripped harshly around his throat. He bit the meat of his cheek and tried to push those thoughts away. Bucky wouldn't hurt him.

Bucky stifled a yawn without even blinking, just shutting his mouth and willing it away, and honestly, Steve pulling away slightly was a relief and a regret. He liked being close to the other, even if it meant his movement was restricted or otherwise stopped. "The first thing you have to do is stop talking," he said, blinking, and the moon had gotten brighter through the curtain, like clouds had passed or something. He could feel it on his face, so he looked up to Steve and blinked at him, irises colourless in the silver. "Then... Basically it’s like pretending to be asleep when you aren't actually asleep." He gave a shrug with his right shoulder. "Don't fall asleep, just... Lie still." How was he supposed to explain it? It wasn't a difficult task-- maybe Steve just found it hard...

Steve locked eyes with Bucky's narrowed gaze, almost colorless on the moon light falling over his features. He parted his lips to say something in reply but thought against, Bucky may be actually making the fort to teach him this? He bit his lower lips instead and lowered his eyes lids enough so they were half mast, brows furrowed in thought. Would this be his life for the foreseeable future? Toeing boundaries and watching what he said. He let his fingers loose from the thick locks of hair entangled around them and pulled his hand away gently so he didn't snag any tangles and moved his hand away completely to rest it in the same fashion Bucky's left arm was in between them. He continued to stay silent, wetting his lips before averting his eyes and letting them slide shut fully, he could still feel Bucky's breath against his skin.

He missed the fingers in his hair as soon as they weren't there, but he nodded slightly. His metal arm wasn't cold, it was warm with the heat mingled under the sheets. He watched Steve's eyes slide shut, and he nodded slightly. "Just like that Stevie," he said softly, and he shifted his left hand slightly so he touched Steve's wrist softly, and through the plating he could feel Steve's pulse thudding. Calmer than it had been when he'd felt it in his chest, and... Yes. This was very good. Then he shut his eyes soon, listening to Steve breathing and humming softly again. "Very good Steve."

Steve's muscles momentarily tensed before relaxing once more when he felt warmed metal grip at his wrist gently and keep his arm in place between them with a firm squeeze before he heard the plating whir in the silence and become quiet again. He wet his lips once more and bit into his lower lip, quickly becoming a habit, when he heard the soft praise being whispered to him in a raspy tone that settled over him thickly. His heart giving an involuntary flutter against his ribs, letting his lips part to intake a shuddered breath, but continued to say nothing else. His fingers curled into a loose fist between them, keeping himself from pulling his hand away from the grip on it and reaching out for Bucky. He kept his eyes shut. 

It felt almost as if he had Steve in... a half trance or something. He felt his heart rate rise and drop beneath his fingertips, and that was okay. Steve was listening to him, and that was good, that was nice, and this whole... situation had him calm and overall was just... Nice. "It would be easier if you relaxed more, Stevie, if you breathed with me and relaxed your muscles." And with that he took slow, deep breaths so Steve could match them easily. It felt familiar, somehow, this action, asking Steve to breathe with him, but he didn't know why...

Steve's bottom lip trembled lightly when he began the all too familiar routine of following Bucky's lead in measured deep breaths, his eyes still shut and soaking in the artificial warmth from the grip around his wrist. He attempted to relax his muscles as he continued to breath in....then out. His heart as thudding rhythmically now but he found himself leaning forward into the touch, his eyes peeking open enough to manoeuvre himself enough that his head was tilted enough that he was able to brush his lips against Bucky's, not even fully aware of what he was doing while his eyes slid shut once more. Their breaths mingled though he made no effort to further the contact, just their lips brushing together.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wish me luck to uni starting next week im gonna die maybe

Bucky was very very still, and a part of his mind was telling him that he should've brushed his teeth the damn idiot because Steve was right there and he didn't want to have morning breath or any other kind of breath. It was just a light touch, and Steve was calm, there was no expectation with the light skin touching skin. There was no worry and no heat and everything was calm, so Bucky did what anyone would do. He went with his gut and he shut his lips and pressed forward, touching their lips closer together and he felt them move and mould against his own and he loved it. But he stopped it, Steve's desperate voice echoing in his head. He didn't want that again. So he pulled back and then let out a soft hum. "Was that what you wanted?" He murmured into the darkness. 

Steve's heart thudded heavily in his chest when he could feel the close-mouthed kiss being reciprocated gently, his own breathing calm despite his erratic pulse as he leaned in and returned the kiss before Bucky pulled away enough to speak. Steve peeked out from beneath thick lashes and gave a sluggish smile, his cheeks warm and feeling kind of pleased with himself. Like he was recharged. "I always want you, Bucky." He said quietly, though the smile stayed in place as he moved his arm enough that he was able to slip out of Bucky's grip and intertwine their fingers together between them. He wet his lower lips and could still taste the lingering buzz of warmth against his mouth, "Was that okay?" He asked almost hesitantly as if he was afraid of what answer he would get.

Why Steve was so reactive to a simple kiss was lost on the brunet, so he let their fingers get wound together, and he smiled just slightly because Steve looked very pleased with his decision to kiss him, and Bucky would admit that it wasn't unpleasant or anything. He squeezed Steve's hands and he gave a one shouldered shrug. "I'm not panicking," he said very honestly, because he wasn't. Steve's heart rate picking up had not affected his own, and he was very content. "I haven't kissed anyone in a long time." In fact, he couldn't pin point the last time he had been the one to initiate a kiss. Sure, this one was mostly Steve, but Bucky had been the one to put his back into it first. 

Just hearing that validation that Bucky hadn't been intimate with anyone else, as silly as it was, put Steve's mind at ease as the smile broadened. "Can we do it again?" He wanted to be sure and touch base with him beforehand so he didn't over step these boundaries that were no longer as suffocating as they were before they entered the bedroom. He squeezed his hand, the metal plating not providing any give but he hoped that the pressure was somewhat soothing to the other. He ducked his head down enough to press a kiss to the metallic knuckles as he waited for an answer, his heart continuing to thud heavily but he remained a little calmer than he was before.

Bucky felt the squeeze on his hand and it was comforting, except for the fact that Steve was trying to work himself up again, and Bucky had given him what he had wanted already, so why was he asking for it again? He was confused. Was one time not enough to sate him? "Why would you want to do it again?" He asked for himself, and he watched as Steve leaned over to kiss his metal knuckles like they weren't that. Like they were flesh and blood and could feel the sensation of it instead of just the pressure. It was somewhat very endearing. "I thought we were trying to stay still."

Steve continued to kiss his knuckles before pressing one against his ring finger, letting his lips linger a moment longer, "Just one more, Bucky." His tone almost childish as he bit his lower lip and focused his rounded blue eyes back on him, he could feel his skin was flushed and warm with heat. "One more, please." He knocked their foreheads together gently and brushed his nose against Bucky's before squeezing his hand once more. "Then I'll be good and still for you." He whispered this softly, their breath beginning to mingle in the small space between them as he hooked his ankle around Bucky's calve to pull him closer beneath the blankets.

Bucky was frowning. Why was Steve so insistent? Like somehow another kiss would make his life, like another kiss would be more fulfilling than the one that had just happened. It made Bucky shift a little bit. He'd already done it once, why would he do it again? Yes, it was an order, but Steve was getting flustered and his heart was thudding harder, and Bucky didn't want a repeat of what had happened before. But he decided not to shut Steve down immediately. Instead, he tried to get some answers. Because Steve was bargaining for this, and that meant it was important. He didn't pull his face away. "Why do you want me to kiss you so badly?" He asked, sounding genuinely intrigued. 

Steve wet his lower lips before tilting his head back enough so that he could look at Bucky fully as he spoke. His brows furrowed at the question all though it was completely justified for him to be asking him that. He digested it for a moment, feeling his skin burning with heat and a little embarrassment from being asked so directly. This was so much difference from the teasing tone from before the war that would ask him what he needed and would demand he ask nicely before receiving, compared to this genuine confusion and curiosity as he questioned why Steve did the things he would do. He bit his lower lips before speaking, "Because I want you to kiss me. You used to kiss me." He attempted to explain but quickly realized that this would most likely get them nowhere closer to explaining anything to Bucky, his brows furrowed in a little bit of frustration as he tried to find a better way of saying it.  

Bucky seemed even more confused by that, and this was like the car again, like the plane. No clear answers and nothing making sense. So now he shifted away some more, put more space between them, more distance between their faces and torsos and hips. He would not have that again. "If you do not give me straight answers, Steve, I will be forced to leave the bed," he said, and he was telling the truth. His clipped, suddenly terse words were nothing but honest. He would not short circuit again, he absolutely refused to, even if it seemed that the threat would probably upset Steve. If the blond decided to use a punishment then Bucky would take it, however. "Why do you want to kiss me?" He asked again, this time more sharply, and he was managing to stay calm but he wasn't sure how long for. 

Steve flinched back when he realized that Bucky was putting more space between them so that they weren't connected by any of their limbs, his tone harsh as he spoke. He could feel his sinuses flare and his eyes sting with frustration. "What do you want me to say?" His voice rose as he started speaking, shifting his weight to sit up, the thick blankets around them tangling at his waist as he pathetically tried to push them off; his skin itched with heat, it felt too tight against his muscles. "I'm in love with a man who doesn't even remember who I am?" This Bucky. The Winter Soldier. He knew Steve through a file, could recite to him his accomplishments and things that he had done to help the greater good. But he would never be able to remember all those time they played together as kids. Grew up and stumbled over their own feelings for one another. Steve was beginning to realize that maybe he would never get that back and he had to accept that. "I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he bit his lower lip to focus on something else aside from the swell of emotions flooding his senses. He felt like he was suffocating. "I'm sorry." He repeated, pushing the blankets back enough to get up from the bed, stumbling a bit to gain his balance. 

Oh, but that made Bucky flinch too, because he hadn't been expecting Steve to raise his voice, or sit up, or start getting upset. He'd expected a civil conversation where they worked this out, or perhaps maybe Bucky leaving. He didn't expect Steve to leave, and now... Now, after what he said, Bucky felt guilt curling in his chest. He didn't remember Steve, and that made him upset, and he didn't want to kiss the blond because of that. He couldn't love Steve back. Because he didn't remember him. He sat up slowly too, and he was frowning and his grey eyes were troubled. Why was Steve apologizing? Even Bucky knew they had history... Steve had the right to get so angry. All the emotions Steve was feeling, they were valid. Bucky on the other hand, he didn't like this. He didn't like the way he craved to run after him, he didn't like the way he wanted to be upset over this, that he felt like this was all his fault for trying to get some information. He just... He sat up and watched Steve, and he swallowed. "I'm sorry," he said more loudly than Steve was speaking. "Steve, please, I don't... I don't know why I don't remember but I want to. Please, please don't leave." A tone he didn't recognize in his voice had crept upwards into it and he was clutching the tangled blankets tightly. "Please. I'll kiss you, Steve, I will, please don't cry." He didn't want Steve to be upset, he wanted Steve to be okay. "Please... I'm sorry."

Steve felt like he was reacting childishly to this whole thing as if he wasn't getting his way and he was throwing a tantrum of it. His heart was beginning to pick up in speed and could feel his breathing becoming a little labored as he attempted to inhale and exhale, tears were already streaming down flushed cheeks as he reached up and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hands. "I'm sorry." He croaked out a little softer, his muscles tensing when he could hear how... _wrecked_  Bucky sounded as he began to desperately fumble out apologies and pleas. "I don't-" Steve turned so he was facing him. He was taking this in a completely wrong direction, he should be  _helping_  Bucky understand, not causing even more distress to something that wasn't even his fault. "I don't want you to kiss me if you think that's what you  _have_  to do Bucky." His voice cracked as he spoke, he was sure he looked a mess as he pulled himself back onto the bed so he could crawl the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around his neck in a secure hold, rocking him gently with the movement, "I'm sorry. Bucky, baby, I'm not going to leave, okay?" His breath caught, smoothing his hand over the tangle of locks against the back of his head before he rested his palm there to cradle it against the crook of his neck.

Steve was crying now, and that was all Bucky's fault, he'd made Steve cry and now Steve was still apologizing and he wasn't supposed to kiss Steve now to make him feel better? He sat stock still as Steve came back towards him, and let himself be rocked, but he was still so confused and unsure and he didn't know what was going on. So he let that be known as he wrapped his arms around Steve's waist on instinct, holding him up and keeping him up and keeping him safe even if he didn't truly know how to do that. "I don't understand," he said softly, into Steve's ear because that's where he was sitting. "I'm very confused, and... And I don't know what is expected of me." That's what he found the hardest, that he had no direction. Sometimes, now, he could choose his own direction, but currently he felt like he needed to be given direction and he wasn't getting that. So he felt lost and worried and confused. 

A small shiver moved down Steve's tense spine as he leaned in closer to Bucky's warmth emitting from his bare chest as he cradled Steve closer by the waist and keeping him in place. They were leaning against each other enough to be supporting one another from slipping forward, "Nothing is expected of you, Bucky." He answered honestly because he really felt that way, that Bucky should be able to choose what he wanted to do and how it should be done. Despite that he was slowly realizing that it was like leaving someone in-charge of something that they had no idea how to control or reel back. Bucky must have felt so unstable, as if the body he was in was not his own and the memories that were flooding him were not his to remember; like he was toeing private boundaries that he should be punished for. Steve squeezed closer, wanting to apologize for smearing tears against his skin but could not find it in himself to do so.

He knew that he could not provide Bucky with the help or answers he craved but he knew deep down that the only thing he held true to himself was what he was feeling for the other, "I love you, Bucky." He croaked out, voice thick with tears-- he wanted that to cure anything that was bothering Bucky but he knew that it would be all in vain. 

Bucky felt like that was a lie. He felt like a lot was expected of him, but nothing was being said out loud or directly to him. He didn't mind Steve crying on him, he felt like being that shoulder for Steve was something that was expected of him, and he didn't mind being that. He felt good being that support. But if that wasn't expected of him, which Steve had just said, what was he supposed to do? He was shaking some, trembles through his frame, and he was frowning a little bit when Steve declared his feelings. Love. Steve loved him. And Bucky didn't know what to do with that at all. So he sat and gave a soft hum to let Steve know he'd heard, but he didn't do much more but continue rocking slowly back and forth, lost and confused and entirely unsure of what to do next.

Steve gave him another squeeze before loosening his arms and letting go completely. His tears has dried up enough that he was sure he didn't look as much of a mess, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands. He hadn't expected Bucky to say anything back but the silence was a little disheartening.  "I don't know what you want me to say, Bucky. I want to help you, but you're going to have to help me, too." His voice was hoarse from crying but he had calmed down considerably from just being pressed up against the other. "We can take this one day at a time, and I need to accept the reality that-" He cleared his throat before trying to search for what exactly he was trying to say, "Accept that you may never be the Bucky that I knew."

Bucky silently questioned how you could take it more than one day at a time, but he didn't verbalize it, just nodding silently. He was watching Steve in the moonlight, expression very troubled. He crossed his arms over himself, hold himself around the waist tightly to give himself support. He didn't know why Steve's words hurt him so much. "I want to be that Bucky," he said after a moment of silence hanging in the air. Steve seemed to really love the other Bucky, so he must have been a very good person. A person who kissed Steve lots and maybe more? Bucky was frowning and trying to make himself smaller. "I don't know how to help you and be your Bucky," he admitted though, and he winced at it. He didn't like not knowing things. That made him liable to malfunction. 

Steve's eyes threatened to begin watering once more when those words left Bucky, his expression devastating as he curled in on himself, "Bucky, baby." He said softly, reaching his hands out and cupping his cheeks between them, making him tilt his head up more to look at him. "You're not doing anything wrong here. You know that, right? I know you're trying but you don't have to  _force_  yourself to be something just because you think it's what I want." His voice cracked as he spoke, scooting closer on the bed so their body heat was mingling a bit more between them. "I think things will slowly start to come back to you, but if they don't. That's okay." He ducked his head forward to press a kiss against his forehead. "We can make new memories together.

Was it okay, though? Bucky couldn't be sure. He didn't know how it could be, what with Steve so upset and he himself feeling so lost... He let it happen though, not even sure how to dispute Steve's words because he didn't have a comprehending of it. Because he knew within himself that he was Bucky, Steve's words on the plane had solidified that, but... There was more to that than just... That. He let out a little noise of distress and pulled himself closer to the blond. He may not have enjoyed feeling, but he knew Steve stopped some of the bad emotions from getting too bad... "We'll make memories here in Russia," he tried, voice hesitant, cautious. 

Steve moved forward and pressed further against Bucky so that they were flush together, "Maybe you can teach me some Russian." He said softly, a teasing tone to his voice in attempt to lighten the mood. "We should just stay here, make a life for ourselves." He was talking mostly smoke, there was probably no way SHIELD would just let him go with no fight. Wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pressing his face into the crook of his neck. "You could just keep me here, we'll change our names and become turnip farmers or something." He couldn't help but laugh at the thought, feeling a little silly himself. He pressed a kiss against the side of his neck, a weak smile on his lips. 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I am alive and I can't sleep, for some reason my brain thought maybe it was time to just get all my chapters uploaded on into the ether. I know it's been so long and I'm sorry, but recently my laptop harddrive had a meltdown and i was like, what if i lose all these and the stories are never finished? So I'm doing a mass upload of everything, nothing is going to be edited at all, and I hope it's okay. Please feel free to have lowkey resentment of me for the rest of your lives 
> 
> Also I hope you all are doing well, the MCU is amazing atm in my opinion.

In all honesty, if that was a plan Steve truly wanted to do, Bucky would not protest. Russia was lovely country to stay in when you kept away from the main populace, and no one in the town had ever committed murder, except for old Ms. Jenny who worked at the store. Everyone was kind. And it would be a lot calmer than if he had to go back to New York with Steve in danger. He huffed along when Steve did, wrapped around him and slowly ushering them back to lying down. It was more comfortable when they lay down. He pulled the covers up and hummed softly at the kiss on his neck.... He hadn't been kissed nicely on his neck ever, and it was a very pleasant sensation. It had him forgetting about all his current worries so he could focus on Steve, and only Steve. "Kotyonok means kitten," Bucky said, turning his head into Steve's hair. He could teach him Russian if he wanted to learn. "Solniska means little sun, but you would probably say sunshine..."

Steve let Bucky maneuver them into a more comfortable laying position as he pulled the blanket up around them to contain the heat between them. He was nestled against him to where his head was pressed against his chest while Bucky rested ontop of his head. He found it incredibly endearing that the first few words that he was teaching him were something so soft and sweet on the tongue. He fumbled over the words for a moment before repeating the words after him but obviously not with the same flourish of pronunciation. Steve pressed another kiss against his bare chest before trailing his lips over the warm skin and pressing a nothing firm kiss against his neck once more and laying his head back down with a sheepish smile that Bucky couldn't see from this angle. "What's next, Mr. Barnes." He teased lightly, letting his palm press against Bucky's hip before sliding it over his side and back down, enjoying the small pieces of contact between them.

Bucky just lay, listening and correcting Steve when he mucked up with the words, and he let Steve adorn him with kisses and soft touch. Bucky's head was against the pillow as well as leaned against Steve's head, and he was soothed by the touches. All the negative energy from before was gone, relaxed now and calm. Mr. Barnes. Hmmm, that was an interesting term. His heart was thudding slowly in his chest, and he took a few slow, deep breaths. His flesh hand was tracing up and down over Steve's pajamas... "You should rest, Steve," he said. That was something he could settle on when he was unsure. "It's been a long day, and it would be good..."

Steve relaxed into the gentle touches and rolled his hips forward so their legs were slotted together underneath the blankets. "I'm still not sleep, Bucky." He said a bit childishly despite the face that his eyes were sliding shut already, pressing his head further against his chest, brushing his lips against his collarbone, really just mouthing at it in lazy motions at this point. His hand squeezed over his hip before slipping back and resting it against his lower back, "Touch me more." His voice was slurring slightly but focusing on Buckys voice was keeping him grounded.

Bucky huffed a little bit and felt himself roll his eyes even though he didn't entirely know the motivation behind it. To show exasperation, perhaps? It just felt right, really. And Steve was cuddling up to him and pining for attention like a cat, so Bucky really had no other option than to do as requested. Not that Bucky minded very much at all. If touching Steve was what was needed to be done to finally get him to sleep, Bucky would not complain. Touching Steve was not a chore. They were pressed pretty close together again, and Steve was falling asleep, Bucky was basically in Steve's arms as he increased the pressure his fingers had on Steve's skin, as well as increasing the area that he traced. "Have you always been this demanding?" Bucky asked, and while his tone was joking and playful-- as much as his tone could get anyway-- but it was also quite a genuine query. 

"Only as demanding as you'd let me get away with. But we've always been gluttons for affection." He replied with a small laugh, pressing against him, hooking his ankle around Bucky's to keep their legs tangled together. He wet his lower lower and with a teasing smile he leaned forward and nipped at the skin around his pectoral, his eyes peeking open, "You're enabling my addiction." He rocked his hips forward and pressed their bellies flush together as he nestled his head underneath his chin. He couldn't get enough of this close contact, his heart thudding evenly against his ribs and skin warm from combined friction.  
Bucky rolled his shoulders a little bit, and his expression to the ceiling was now a little confused once more. Yes, alright, he had concluded that all the touches were very nice, but Steve was getting very close, and all his movements were very /very/ close. Working his jaw for a moment, Bucky could only think of the one thing to say. "You need to rest, Steve." This was said tightly, and while Bucky didn't stop the tracing of Steve's skin, he was tensing up some. Even if the mood was staying neutral, it didn't /feel/ neutral, and with Steve nipping and licking and rolling... Bucky felt as if this was unusual only to be one sided. Like he was expected to do something in return. "That would require you staying still," Bucky elaborated further, hoping his message was getting through. 

Steve noticed the tight shift in Bucky's tone almost immediately, tensing his own muscles before finally settling with wrapping his arm securely around his middle and staying close. "Right, sorry." But he didn't sound very sorry at all with a small smile hidden against the crook of Bucky's neck. He let his eyes slide back shut as he idly curled.and uncurled his fingertips against the skin the his hand was resting against. He was pleased with what Bucky would allow him to indulge in but he wouldn't overstep his boundaries with what he wasn't comfortable with. He was beginning to relax but one thing needed to be said before he could fully drift off, "You don't have to say anything back, but-" his voice slightly muffled from where his head was nestled, "I love you." He wanted to get it out once more before it slipped his, that Bucky was loved regardless what may happen.

As soon as Steve relaxed and backed down, even if his apology wasn't fully genuine, Bucky relaxed, hand splaying out over Steve's back like a giant support, warm and steady. He listened to the other speak, and Bucky took a very long time to reply, not really sure what to say. He couldn't truly comprehend the feeling, and he worked it through his head multiple times, and still couldn't come up with a suitable reaction. So he closed his eyes and nodded. "Confirm," he said, and whether that was to confirm that he could feel the same way or that he simply understood, that was unanswered even by himself as he let Steve's warmth and sleepiness drag him under as well, even if it was against protocol.

He could hardly hear him reply back but couldn't keep the goofy smile from spreading across his lips at what he said. It wasn't a rejection. And that's what made Steve's heart flutter in his stomach as he squeezed closer in what resembled a hug and one last smack of lips against his chest. He was beginning to drift off closer to sleep, his senses numbing to what was happening around him until he was sound asleep. His grip on Buckys side loosening as his muscles fully relaxed and became slack underneath the hold on him.

Sunlight was beginning to filter through the spaces between the pulled curtains, shining across his skin and over Steve's eyes causing his brows to furrow and the last grasps of dreamless sleep slipping through his fingers as he stirred. He groaned softly and stretched his arms out, palm sliding over cool mattress space beside him before he realized something was missing that he was trying to grab for. Bucky. His eyes snapped open with a panicked breath, Bucky was gone. He pulled himself up on sleep-numb arms and quickly threw the blanket back. He tried to swallow down the anxiety that was building in his stomach, he was overreacting to something that might not even be a big thing but the thought of Bucky leaving again. Leaving him. It made him feel sick to his stomach, moving his legs off the edge of the bed and standing up. His knees felt like they were going to buckle under him, "Bucky?" He called out, grabbing the dressing gown from where he left it on the floor the night before, pulling it on hastily before he tied it around his waist.  
Bucky didn't sleep the whole night, he had no reason to, and the sun hadn't even started touching the horizon when Bucky untangled himself from his companion, Steve was dead to the world, and Bucky couldn't help but linger and run his hands through Steve's hair a couple of times, careful not to wake him, and he climbed out of bed to go to the bathroom. He had a quick, cold shower, and after that cleaned his cuts up, redid stitches in silence, and tidied up his hair a little with scissors. That's what Steve would want of him, he assumed, anyway, and that's what was driving him. He tidied up the bathroom when he was done, silently got changed into some warm clothing, and started the fire up again, so it would be warming up the house before Steve awoke. Then he got himself a lamp and decided he would check on his veggie gardens. Might as well become a turnip farmer while he was here-- or something like that, Steve had said. He sat by his little pots and tended to them carefully as the sun started to show itself, and he replanted seeds and brought in the huge crops of potatoes, anything, really, and by the time he was done his hands were covered in soil and he'd put his hair up, it was perfect timing for him to be done. He wandered in just as he heard Steve calling for him, his wicker basket full of greens and root vegetables. He was surprised how well they'd grown without him here. "I'm in the kitchen!" He announced, because Steve sounded distressed and he didn't want Steve to feel distressed. He started washing everything in the sink after cleaning his hands, set on getting it tidied up too. 

His breath hitched, letting out a quiet breath of relief when Bucky had called from the kitchen. He was sure to step into the slippers at the foot of the bed before he left the bedroom, keeping his arms crossed tight against his chest to trap the heat in beneath the dressing robe. He shuffled down the narrow hall and peeked around the corner into the kitchen, Bucky's back turned to him with his hair looking a little neater pulled back into a short ponytail. He had swallowed down the anxiousness buzzing threw his system before he left the bedroom, feeling a little more at ease to see Bucky rinsing something out in the kitchen and looking comfortable...at home, where he stood. He wet his lips , they were already becoming a little chapped from the cold, "G'morning," he said loud enough for him to hear, standing in the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room as to soak up the heat beginning to radiate from the lit fireplace and circulate it's way through the room. 

Bucky didn't sleep the whole night, he had no reason to, and the sun hadn't even started touching the horizon when Bucky untangled himself from his companion, Steve was dead to the world, and Bucky couldn't help but linger and run his hands through Steve's hair a couple of times, careful not to wake him, and he climbed out of bed to go to the bathroom. He had a quick, cold shower, and after that cleaned his cuts up, redid stitches in silence, and tidied up his hair a little with scissors. That's what Steve would want of him, he assumed, anyway, and that's what was driving him. He tidied up the bathroom when he was done, silently got changed into some warm clothing, and started the fire up again, so it would be warming up the house before Steve awoke. Then he got himself a lamp and decided he would check on his veggie gardens. Might as well become a turnip farmer while he was here-- or something like that, Steve had said. He sat by his little pots and tended to them carefully as the sun started to show itself, and he replanted seeds and brought in the huge crops of potatoes, anything, really, and by the time he was done his hands were covered in soil and he'd put his hair up, it was perfect timing for him to be done. He wandered in just as he heard Steve calling for him, his wicker basket full of greens and root vegetables. He was surprised how well they'd grown without him here. "I'm in the kitchen!" He announced, because Steve sounded distressed and he didn't want Steve to feel distressed. He started washing everything in the sink after cleaning his hands, set on getting it tidied up too. 

"Good morning, Steve," Bucky replied politely, looking over his shoulder and giving the same kind of nod to him, before going back to washing the vegetables. Steve was... Aesthetically pleasing to look at most of the time, and with his current bedhead, slightly sleepy expression and pink cheeks... Bucky wished he had a word for it. Adorable? Was that suitable for an adult man? "Was your rest of suitable comfort?" He continued on, because it seemed like Steve's custom was not to stand in silence, and Bucky assumed that maybe Steve would be happier if Bucky initiated the small talk. 

Steve offered a sheepish smile when Bucky looked over his shoulder to greet him, giving him a once-over before turning back to what he was doing. A full body shiver worked it's way through his body as his muscles thawed out and relaxed from the radiating heat, "It was very suitable, thanks." He replied with the same tone he was using, teasing with no real heat behind it, stepping forward over the threshold to join him in the kitchen. "How was yours?" He stepped up closer beside him to peek at what he was working on, bumping their hips together lightly, blinking in surprise when he took in all the veggies soaking the dirt off in the sink before he moved them over to dry on a towel beside him on the counter. 

Bucky let his hip sway at the bump, and he nodded softly. "It was adequate, thank you," he said, and watched as Steve began helping him with the cleaning. Help. Interesting concept, it was... And he didn't mind it at all. "I've now slept over my average allowance for rest by half a day... It feels unusual," he admitted, and his face pinched together a little bit as he used his metal hand to get some of the grittier dirt out of the side of a potato. He had never felt this rested before, and his wounds were almost healed too, if his inventory of his pain levels and checking himself in the mirror was enough to judge by. "I feel like I won't need to sleep again for years." Obviously that was impossible, but the comparison felt like it fit in this moment, he didn't really have anyway else to put it. 

Steve took the potato that was handed to him to rest on the drying towel before grabbing one himself to begin rinse off the dirt packed around the bottom of it, "You're welcome." He said a bit softer, trying to hide the smile curving at the corners of his lips as their hips bumped lightly once more. This felt very...domestic. Steve couldn't help but feel a little warm and fuzzy inside from just the hip contact. He blinked in surprise at what Bucky had said next, not sure if he was taking the saying too seriously but when he glanced over and saw the small satisfied look on his face, he knew that he wasn't being serious. "It'll be good for both of us to get on a nice sleep schedule. You'll feel even better." He could tell there was more of a bounce in Bucky's step today, he looked well rested and more relaxed in himself. 

Bucky listened to that and for a moment thought about protesting it. Why would he sleep when he didn't need it? Then... Well, his mind offered him the fact that there wasn't very much else to do around their little home, and sleeping would pass half the time... Sleeping was comfortable and sleeping in the same bed as Steve was warm and very nice... "We have three months maximum here, I think, if the interest in your head goes down like I expect it too," he said, and felt his own hip bump into the blond's as he turned to set the lettuce off to the side, now shiny and looking very fresh and clean. He didn't know why he spoke about the time frame, but then he was adding on. "It'll be a very long three months if every night goes like last night." 

"Oh? I thought we would start a new life here." He said almost matter of fact, finishing off the few potatoes left in the sink before drying his hands off on the hand-rag hanging on the cabinet under the sink. He put it back and leaned his weight fully against the kitchen counter, the edge pressed against his lower back, "I'm sorry about last night." He felt a flush a shame down the back of his neck, he knew he was probably making things mor difficult for Bucky to adjust to. He crossed his arms loosely against his stomach, he was sure his hair was sticking up in odd places, he reached a hand up to try to smooth it back at the crown of his head, "I'll try not to let my feelings interfere with the safety of both of us." He finished off a bit softer.

Bucky started putting all the vegetables where they needed to be, bustling around to put them on cupboards and in the fridge. He probably needed to make breakfast for Steve, but he wasn't entirely sure if the other would want eggs again and he didn't want to ask in case that made him sound dull. Why would he not want to sound dull in front of Steve? It was simply a query as to what he was hungry for... Before he got the chance to ask, Steve was apologizing, and Bucky paused his movements to listen. Steve was saying sorry to him. So he must've felt bad. Bucky didn't want Steve to feel bad. "The odd kiss and touch is fine, and I like being close to you," Bucky admitted, hoping to soothe some of that look in Steve's eyes. He was watching him carefully, and a small smile touched his lips. Reassuring. "But I think at my pace would be the best pace." Oh god, to suggest that kind of thing would be almost blasphemous in HYDRA's eyes, yet here he was, trusting Steve not to hurt him for suggesting what would be best... Goodness. What a step.  
His hand paused in his hair before he looked up at Bucky and blinked, his lips parted. "Of course, yeah." He couldn't bite back the dopey grin that was beginning to spread across and brighten his features. This was a step in the right direction and it warmed his chest, "I just want you to be comfortable and if it feels like I'm pressuring you, I want you to tell me, Buck." He took a step around him to finish patting dry the remaining veggies on the towel before following his lead to begin putting them away. His back was turned to him so he couldn't see the embarrassed look that was forming, "I can get-" he fumbled for the words, "a little excited." That was putting it mildly, at least.

Bucky wasn't used to that, not at all. Of course, he was in the process of getting used to it, already speaking his mind more and not worrying that Steve would punish him for doing so. Bucky was putting the vegetables away, and he heard rather than saw the embarrassment in Steve's voice, making him chuckle softly as he brushed Steve's back to get the final few to organize in the fridge. "Yes you can," he said softly, leaning into the fridge for a moment. "I don't see why when I don't reciprocate... You create atmosphere one-sided," Bucky observed out loud, hoping he wasn't saying the wrong thing by stating it out loud.  
Steve swallowed thickly and offered a meek apologetic smile despite Bucky's back being turned to him so he could sort things away into the fridge. "I think I lose myself, going into it from the start thinking that maybe you'd enjoy it. Reading that atmosphere wrong." He squeezes his arms closer to his chest and leans back against the counter once more. He wet his lower lips with the tip of his tongue before letting his eyes trail up to the broad expanse of Bucky's back. "I have never been good at situations like those. Back..back then. It was only you, so you always led when I didn't know what to do, so now-" he averted his eyes, focusing his attention on the slight drip of water leaking from the sink faucet. "Now, it's obviously showing how unequiped I am in those situations."

There it was again. The feeling that curled his stomach and made him feel a little unwell. Guilt. He straightened slowly, and closed the fridge, turned so he was facing Steve again and looked at him. Steve looked nervous, his eyes averted, and Bucky looked to where Steve's gaze was focused and saw the tap dripping, so he moved over to it and shut it off before replying. He'd always led, oh... So when they'd almost been intimate he was the one who knew what to do and now neither of them knew what to do. That wasn't a good concoction of skill levels. Bucky mimicked Steve's posture, leaning against the bench and crossing his arms over his waist. "We will just need to learn and grow together," he said simply, grey eyes calmly settled on Steve's face, watching his expression. "Because we are both unequipped and I have no idea where to take things. I haven't been touched like that-- with kindness-- for a long time." He said, and he was pretty sure he had said this before... No harm in saying it again. "It confuses me, and without knowing what our relationship was prior, I don't have anything to try and build upon. I don't have a mission objective to be like, and I don't have a direction." He gave a soft shrug. "So we have to take our time so I don't... Spin out again." 

Steve's blinked and rubbed at one of his eyes with the back of his hand to break his focus from the tap dripping excess water. His expression softened at Bucky's next few words, "Maybe this will give us a chance to start fresh?" His eyes landing back and locking with Bucky's, offering a small smile. "We can take this a step at a time so neither of us get overwhelmed or feel like we're moving too quickly." He stepped from the kitchen counter and closed the space between them with a few quick steps forward, reaching his hands out to take his hands from their crossed position into his own. Giving them a soft squeeze before directing them to rest against his waist. Taking his own hands and resting them on Bucky's shoulders lightly.


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky gave a very simple nod, and he could feel that Steve had a small plan so stayed still and let himself be guided once Steve had closed the space between them, and he took a few careful breaths when they were touching like this, brain clicking quickly, before he moved his hands to wrap around Steve's back and pull him quickly into a hug that probably could've been a lot more elegant as he pressed his face into Steve's shoulder. "One step at a time," he agreed, grip around Steve squeezing slightly, and he didn't want to pull away. This hug was amazing, and it wasn't too much, and they had no more plans for the day and... he could stay like this for the rest of the day, if Steve wanted.

A small yelp escaped from him, quickly muffled by his face being pressed against Bucky's shoulder; he had to adjust himself and was able to wrap his arms easily around his neck and move impossibly closer. He could feel a dopey smile spreading across his lips as he pressed a chaste kiss against his neck before nestling closer against the crook, "And I'll be with you every step of the way." He cooed at softly and began to sway them side to side slowly in a relaxing lull, one of his hands sliding up to ease his fingers up the back of his neck and began to tease at the pieces of hair sticking from his ponytail. The weight of Bucky's arms keeping him in place around his waist was enough to keep him smiling and wanting to stay where his was for as long as he was allowed to be.

Bucky was pretty sure it was possible for him to lose his footing if he wasn't careful, due to how quickly Steve's hands in his hair relaxed him. He was barely touching it, but the effect was immediate, his knees wobbling just a little bit, and he was tilting his head just a little bit to expose his throat that little bit more. Every step of the way, Steve had said, and that was almost familiar, in a way, words prompted from the depths of Bucky's mind and falling off his lips before he could stop them. "'Til the end of the line," he murmured, and he was adjusting his grip to hold Steve impossibly closer, swaying easily to silent music that he felt through and through. 

Steve had to catch himself before he let out a broken sounded noise from the back of his throat at what Bucky had said, "Yeah, that's right, Bucky." His breath hitched, rubbing his face against the crook of his neck, his lips brushing against whatever skin he could touch. He carefully pulled the elastic from his hair so it was loose once more and he could begin threading his fingers through the back of it, blunt nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He could feel him responded to every little movement a they started to sway together gently, their hips slotted together comfortably while they pressed closer.

Bucky pressed his face impossibly closer when Steve took his hair out, and the sensation was so good it raised goosebumps on his arm, the plates in his left whirring to compensate for an action that was impossible for him. The fact that it had been up in a tie, and was being let out only to be immediately played with made it feel so much better than if Steve had just kept teasing his scalp. He let out a low hum, trying to piece together why Steve had reacted the way he had when he'd said that specific line, or why he'd even said it in the first place... But his mind was trying it's very best to be blank, to focus only on the fact that he was blissed out and humming softly almost like a purr. "That feels very nice," Bucky managed to get out, like that fact wasn't obvious enough as it was. His voice was thick, body lax, and he just couldn't comprehend how the fingers in his hair was so good... Maybe because it was so foreign... Except it wasn't. It felt familiar too... Bucky shut his eyes against his thoughts. Thinking made the feelings of niceness seem less, and he didn't want that.

"That's the point." He teased softly, a warm smile forming on his lips as he cradled the back of Bucky's head gains this shoulder before he continued to rub against his scalp and smoothing his palm against the phase of his skull. "You've done so good, you know? Taking care of me, keeping us safe, Bucky. You've worked so hard." His voice soft and genuine as he soothed the other man, continuing to say them in a repetitive motion that was becoming comforting to him enough that his eyes were beginning to slide shut. "Now let me take care of you, yeah?" His other hand the was flush against the space between his shoulder blades, fingers curling and uncurling against the fabric of his sweater.

Bucky's eyes had been shut a long time, and when Steve started praising him it was like heaven. His shifted so their bodies were entirely flush together, and he was nuzzling Steve like a cat and humming his confirmation of the words so Steve knew they were being heard. Done good... That was something superheroes do... And... Well... Bucky wasn't actually superhero. He did work hard though, and that statement whenever it was said made Bucky hum even louder to it, because he felt like it was true. Steve taking care of him... That sounded-- peaceful. "How would you take care of me?" Bucky asked, voice muffled by Steve's shoulders. Bucky himself very intrigued as to how Steve would go about so he felt quiet once he's once he'd said his piece.

Steve stumbled back slightly when he was being pushed from Bucky nestling forward as a soft growl rumbled from the back of his throat that sent a tremble down Steve's spine. His fingers against Bucky's hair and shoulder curled tighter to keep his balance and slowly lead them backwards to the opposite counter so he was the one pressed back, giving Bucky more of the advantage to rest forward against him. He had to spread his legs a little to give Bucky more room to step between them and move closer, their chest pressed flush together, "I'll keep you safe, too." He croaked out, moving his face flushed from heat to rest his chin on top of Bucky's flesh shoulder. "I'll always be here, to listen and help. To hold you-" Steve squeezed forward, his heart thudding heavily against his chest, his eyes sliding open, "To love you." He whispered softly-all of this felt so domestic. He felt like he was reciting vows, the very thought made his stomach flip and his breath hitch.

Bucky stumbled a little bit as Steve moved them around, but quickly got the hang of it, tucked between Steve's legs, and they were pressed flush together, he was listening to Steve's words, and the hand tightening in his hair was absolute heaven... Bucky didn't know what spurred the impulse, but Steve talking like he was... Like he was at some kind of ceremony? He didn't know what to do about that, and he pulled back suddenly, grey eyes stormy. "To love you," he repeated, and was leaning in again, holding his breath as he pressed a very careful, very hesitant kiss to Steve's lips. They were hot, almost unbelievably so, but Bucky couldn't not do anything more than stand there and hum and have goosebumps. And then he was pulling away before Steve could get too into it, hiding his face again and humming, arms squeezing a little bit as his lips tingled. "I'll keep you safe," he vowed once more, voice muffled by Steve's shoulder. 

When Bucky leaned back with an intense look in his eyes Steve almost flinched back before their lips met, his breath hitching in the back of his throat but was quickly muffled by their mouths connecting together midway. His fingers curled tightly against his thick hair and his other hand grabbing for purchase at his shoulder, letting his eyes slide shut and lean further into the kiss. To love him. Bucky had micmicked his words but there was feelings behind it, making Steve's heart skin and stutter against his ribs. Before he could really return the kiss, Bucky was pulling away and tugging him back into a tight hug, whispering agains this ear. "I'll keep you safe too, Bucky." He whispered softly, pressing a kiss against his ear.

Bucky wasn't sure how long he stayed in Steve's arms for, in his safety and love, warm and comforted and slightly overwhelmed, but that was okay, because the fire had heated up the majority of the home and there were no urgent matters to attend to... It was only when Bucky felt his arm creak, and his muscles were tweaking just slightly in the same why they did when he had had to lie still with the sniper in hand for a mission, that he moved, unwinding his arms from the blond and taking a step back into the middle of the kitchen, stretching suddenly and blinking like he was waking up or something. He met Steve's gaze. "Would you like to go for a walk?" He asked, bones clicking when he turned his back or extended his arms a fair way. Steve would enjoy a walk, right? It would work out the stiffness from their recent stillness, and it was lovely countryside... "It's lovely weather today," he added, in case Steve couldn't see the fact out of his window.

Steve had lost track of time before Bucky had stepped back from him after one last squeeze, his left arm making an audible whirring sound as he stretched it out. He offered a sheepish smile, tightening the tie of the robe around his waist when it had become slightly disheveled from being jostled around. He blinked a little surprised when Bucky had offered to go for a walk- that...that actually sounded great. He didn't know the last time he had just taken a walk around somewhere without having to worry about some impending danger, "That sounds great, Buck." His expression warmed, cheeks still flushed from the close contact and the circulating heat making its way through the room. He shuffled before pulling at the front of the robe lightly, ducking his head with a small grin, "Maybe I should go get changed."

Bucky nodded a little bit. If Steve had wanted to go walking in his pajamas Bucky wouldn't have stopped him, but Steve changing in his mind was a better idea. He bent over a little bit too and his vertebrae popped a little bit, he was smiling and happy as he turned away to look out the window. "I can make you breakfast, first, if you'd prefer," he offered before Steve disappeared. "I can make it after," he added as another option. Steve was better at making decisions than him, so that's why he was making a bigger selection. If Steve chose for Bucky then he wouldn't have to worry about thinking too much into it. "Otherwise go get changed into something quite warm. It's sunny outside but still cold, and I don't think we need to walk very fast..."

Steve pursed his lips and thought a moment before straightening back up and speaking, "How about we cook something after? That way we can work an appetite up and it'd probably feel better to come back, shower then eat." He gave him a small smile and leaned forward to press one last chaste kiss against his lips before another one against his cheek with a small laugh at the wrinkled look he gave Steve before he turned and made his way towards the back room so he could change into something warmer and suitable for outside.

Oh and how Bucky screwed his face up at the kiss, like it was instinct or something to make it seem like he didn't enjoy the affection even though he very much did. Steve had a point, and Bucky let him wander off, Bucky was already in outside clothes, and it was only when Steve was out of the room that he moved to open and reach deep into the cupboard, bringing a small hand pistol when he exited it, and he tucked it into his jacket expertly. He also took a couple of the weighted kitchen knives, sharp and lethal, finding the right sized sheaths for them under the kitchen sink, one going into his boot and one in his sleeve. He then wandered to the front door and leaned against it, every few moments licking his lower lip so he could taste Steve again... Something so familiar but also not at all.

He had quickly changed into a pair of dark wash jeans and a thick-corded grey sweater that he didn't really wear too often, sure that it makes me look a little goofy but it was one of the warmest article of clothing that he owned. He pulled on a pair of boots before grabbing his own leather jacket and pulling it on, giving himself a once over when he glanced down and gave a small nod. He shuffled out of the room and shut the door behind him and moved his way towards the living room where he saw Bucky leaning back against the front door, their eyes locking as Bucky was licking over his lower lip. "Hey, stranger." He had been gone less than ten minutes but he wanted to be back at Bucky's side.

Bucky straightened up a little bit when Steve's reappeared, and he immediately let go of the tension in his shoulders he didn't know he'd been holding. "We are not strangers," Bucky said with a little smile, though the greeting seemed familiar too, and it was nice. Maybe Bucky would start using it. Because they were obviously not strangers, but they could still say it... Was that the point of the greeting? He didn't know. With a dismissive shake of his head, he opened the front door for Steve, sweeping his arm out, the cold air rushing in, but that didn't matter. The fire would heat the cottage again while they were gone. "Gentlemen first," he said softly, because he didn't know what else to say to go along with the opening of the door. Though... He didn't know where he'd gotten that phrase from either... Oh well. It fit well enough. Steve looked like he was wearing enough, that he would be warm enough in the chilly air. Bucky could sacrifice his jacket if it wasn't, he added in the back of his mind. He'd just have to keep an eye on him.

"I think it's Ladies' first." He teased lightly, taking a step forward anyway to make his way through the front door, waiting for Bucky to close the front door behind him. When he as facing him once more he had his hand out for him to take and offering a warm smile. He wasn't sure where they'd be walking to but it should be okay for them to openly hold hands out, "Got to keep me at your side so you don't lose me. Maybe you can teach me more words on our way." He suggestd wiggling his fingers in a quick motion to get him to take it.

Bucky made sure the door was securely shut before turning Steve's way, grey eyes shining in the midday sunlight, and he stepped off the porch to take Steve's hand easily. It was easy. Touching Steve now was easy because they'd laid out the rules and talked about it, there wasn't anything to worry about. He led Steve down the drive, past his car and out onto the little road, deciding that right would be the best way to go just because... Steve wasn't going to get lost, it was open countryside for miles around, and there was no way Bucky wouldn't be able to miss such a tall person on these grounds... The statement was cute though. "There are lots of words in Russian, Steve," the brunet said once they were out on the gravel, swinging their hands just a little bit while their breath fogged in front of them. "Where would I even start?"

Steve grinned and brought their intertwined fingers up to his face so he was able to kiss the back of Bucky's hand before he was being lightly pulled into the direction he was being led. When they turned right at the end up the drive way, he put a slight movement in their step that caused their clasped hands to swing between them, "You could just point at things and say their names in Russian?" He suggested first, glancing over at a large tree they passed, looking back over to him and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Or you could speak in only Russian this whole walk and i can pick up on a few things. Full immersion, or something like that." He gave a small huff of a laugh- He wasn't very confident in his skills to pick up a new language so quickly, but it'd be better than nothing to learn a few phrases in case their out in the nearby town to collect anything.

Bucky was watching Steve curiously, because the road they were on didn't need constant surveillance. It was a flat smooth road and only flowers were the other company in the fields, so Bucky only had Steve to take his attention. Not that the brunet minded at all. Steve sounded very adorable when he was suggesting things, and whenever the blond squeezed his hand he squeezed right back, smiling crookedly. "Are you even any good at learning languages?" Bucky asked, tone highly amused. "What were the words I taught you yesterday, so I know not to say them again," he said, and there was a playfulness in his expression and his tone, his eyes shining. Part of him was almost certain Steve wouldn't be able to remember, and Bucky was pretty sure that would be quite funny. 

He hummed in thought before stepping a bit closer, their hips bumping lightly, "Sunshine and kitten." He said confidently, the grin still in place. He wasn't very confident in saying it in Russian but atleast he still remembered what words he was taught. "Why those words first?" There was probably no rhyme or reason behind why he taught him those words first but it was still something he wanted to ask. He waited a moment, glancing around the area they were in and couldn't help but smile warmly when he did look back and there was a playful smile on Bucky's lips that was so familiar to him that he almost felt like he was sent back in time, his stomach flipping with the mess of butterflies that were already gathered there. 

That was an easy question to reply to, though and Bucky had barely taken a few steps before replying, "They're pet names I think of when I look at you," he said honestly, swinging their arm still, and if anyone asked, he would blame the slight color in his cheeks to the temperature. "You're sunshine and like a kitten," he said, squeezing Steve's hand a little bit harder for a moment before shrugging. "They sound cute in Russian too, roll off the tongue well," he admitted too, though that was less of a reason. Maybe he wasn't thinking too much when he taught the first words, because the time and place they had done it, but in the daylight and with the crisp air clearing his head, it was obvious. "I hope that's okay," he tacked on, in case he needed to retract his statement and apologize.

He attempted to bit back the grin spreading across his lips, turning his head away to look at a particularly full patch of flowers near a tree, "Perfectly okay." He said genuinely , a hint of his smile in his tone. "I don't mind pet-names, you know. You were always heavy handed with them in general." He teased with a squeeze back of his hand. He turned his head back and brough their intertwined fingers back up to his mouth and gave Bucky's hand one more kiss against the back. His eyes locked with Bucky's as he moved his hand away, giving him a bright smile before pulling him forward and pressing a chaste kiss against his full lips. A small laugh bubbled up his chest, muffled by the kiss before he pulled away a took a few steps ahead of him and pulling him along by the hand. "You're surprisingly sweet, Bucky."

Steve bringing up pet names made a few jump to the front of Bucky's mind, a memory of them. Sugar, babydoll, sweetie, sweet heart... Bucky was a little surprised at how easily Steve managed to get a kiss on his lips while they walked, and this time he didn't really mind because he didn't feel trapped in a kitchen or under bed sheets... This was fine, and he followed after Steve almost like a lost puppy, smiling brightly. Sweet. Steve called him sweet like sweetie or sweet heart or sweet cheeks... That had Bucky blushing just a little bit, and he knew it wasn't from the cold. "You make me sweet," he replied, and that was the honest truth. Not 72 hours ago had Bucky been no where near this kind of... Human. And he knew that he'd been changed by Steve's influence on him. "It's you..."

His breath hitched at the openly honest tone that Bucky was speaking in, squeezing his hand. "You just bring it out in me." A small grin on his lips, making sure that Bucky was keeping up with him by slowing his steps a little and waiting a moment before continuing on. He swung their hands between them, "What's first on the agenda, Mr. Barnes?" He was trying to keep the atmosphere a little more light as to not overwhelm Bucky or anything, he wanted this walk to be more stress relieving for them both. He wasn't sure how far they were going to walk, but they were quickly coming on a grassy clearing that verred off the dirt pTh they were following down.

Mr. Barnes. Bucky liked that title. It was definitely more human than a lot of the names he'd been called in his life. He made his gait match Steve's so it was easier to walk by his side, and he knew the path they were taking because he'd done it himself a few times when he'd been committing the area to memory, and then a few times more because it was nice. "Well... There is this clearing that is nice and calm, and through it, just by that patch of trees is a little stream, if you want to go look at it," Bucky offered, looking at Steve expectantly. It was a nice countryside, so Bucky wouldn't mind whatever they did. "Or we can keep going down the road until we get sick of it and turn around..."

Steve was really enjoying how casually Bucky was speaking with him now, losing that more restricted tone that was hinting, "Let's check out that stream." He pulled him along towards the area he pointed out. He was going to suggest that they take a dip in the water but knowing how cold it was outside he thought better than bring that up. "We should do this more." He suggested softly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He was use to taking his morning run with Sam and he was going to miss that routine, but taking morning walks with Bucky would be something nice to look forward to everyday to start their day in the right direction.


	19. Chapter 19

"We've only done it once," Bucky pointed out immediately, and Steve's statement seemed to amuse him, his expression breaking into a bigger smile as he turned down the little dirt track as they got to it. He would enjoy doing this though, and maybe they could make a day trip of it, or walk until night and camp under the stars. That would be very exciting, Bucky decided, feeling more relaxed than he had for a long while. He was at home here, this was his space where he was safe, where he could relax. The brunet glanced to the sky for a moment, and he seemed to hesitate a little bit before speaking up again. "When we get to the clearing, if the grass is dry it's a very nice place to watch the clouds," he informed, trying to make it sound like he wasn't one to like the soothing properties of the activity. It would pass the time, but if Steve didn't want to then Bucky would be alright missing out.

"You sound like such a romantic, Buck." He had a teasing tone but the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips was a genuine expression, pulling Bucky closer by the hand as they made their way to the clearing. Seeing this softer side of Bucky was sending him through a bit of a loop but it wasn't unwelcome; it was like it was this side of him that he never really let out back when they were younger. He gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go, his here's rounding in surprise at how beautiful the area was. "Oh wow, Bucky." He said a little breathless, his hand slack at his sides, frozen in his place just taking in his surroundings. "This place is gorgeous." He looked over his shoulder to give him an excitable look; he might have been a city boy but something like this absolutely enthralled him to his core. He felt like a kid wanting to explore the area fully, bouncing back on his heels and reaching back out for Bucky's hand almost impatiently.

Spring time had allowed for gorgeous flowers through all the grassland, bright yellows and pinks and purples, and the further they went down the little dirt path the more surrounded they were, making Bucky smile more and more openly too. They got to the clearing, and Steve was managing to appreciate it now, and Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, observing the blond spin around like a kid, and when Steve spoke Bucky was nodding. He knew. It was pretty throughout the entire year, any day no matter what. Steve was pretty too, Bucky decided, with such a childlike look of innocence in his expression, and his hair like spun gold in the sunlight. Bucky was quite lucky, he decided. He stepped forward when Steve offered his hand again. "It's just flowers all around until we get to those trees and the stream," he said plainly, though his grey eyes were alive. "It's pretty same-same."

Once their fingers were intertwined once more, Steve pulled him closer and led him over towards a particularly full patch of vibrant flowers. He shifted so they were standing facing one another and he took Bucky's other hand in his and clasped tightly, "We might as well move all of our stuff out here because I'm not leaving." He said jokingly, moving closer to place a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth before offering a small smile. He hummed softly before continuing, "You know this area pretty well. How long have you stayed here?" He didn't really know much of where Bucky's been since the downfall of Hydra. He might have been walking into unknown territory, but maybe this was the best time to get into this.

Bucky was content to slide his arms around Steve's waist when they stood close, because while holding hands was nice it was also quite nice to have their fronts pressed flush together, their faces barely inches apart. He turned his head as he thought though, looking down at the flowers that surrounded them, and honestly, he would happily bring all his outdoor gear around so they could camp under the stars. That could be an expedition they could do to pass the time, who knew. "I have been here for... At least every season for a time," he responded, and with his arms around Steve it was easy to lay his head on the blond's shoulder, his head at the perfect height for it. "This place is safe, so I like coming here," he elaborated, enjoying the familiar smell that clung to Steve's clothing.

Steve relaxed into Bucky's hold, feeling the secure weight of his arms settling against his waist. "I'm glad you brought me here." He whispered softly, resting his chin against Bucky's shoulder in the same way his cheek was against his own. He swayed them a bit, they're combined heat keeping the frigid chill out from between them. The atmosphere was almost too good to be true at how close they were pressed together in the middle of the clearing. He felt like they were protected by the trees enclosing that area and the field of flowers coloring the ground. 

"I'm glad you came," Bucky responded softly, and he let himself be swayed, because that was what felt right, and it was like they were shifting with the wind almost, swaying with the trees around them and feeling the plants. And Bucky was sure they would have been fine, if Bucky hadn't been casually listening out for other things, he wouldn't have heard it. A snapping of twigs underfoot. He tensed impossibly, eyes snapping open, though he quickly composed himself, taking a very few deep breaths and with his arms he was pushing Steve down, turning them so it was Bucky's back towards the trees. "Lie down as close to the ground as you can get," he hissed, though he manufactured a smile so no one would know that he'd noticed. "We're not alone Steve and I need to protect you..." His voice was tight, and he was trying so hard not to draw his weapons and open fire... He needed to have the advantage, and he needed Steve to be safe.

Steve let out a small laugh when Bucky began to turn them but was quickly shifted into a soft sound of confusion as he was being pushed down onto his knees and told to lay down. His eyes rounded, looking up at Bucky from beneath furrowed brows and parts lips before he swallowed thickly and spread himself out on the ground belly down in a grown over path of grass that would keep him somewhat hidden from a far away viewpoint. "Bucky...Bucky, who do you see?" He croaked out, hardly above a whisper, pressing his cheek against the ground and squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to be up and helping Bucky but he knew this was probably the best choice for them both. They couldn't run and end up potentially leading this threat to their base- Their Home. He slowly reached a hand out through the sparse blades of grass and rubbed at Bucky's ankle, he trusted him so fully to keep him safe.

Bucky fell for a few moments to be lying next to his companion, so it would be like they were just stopping to roll around the grass, but as he propped himself up a little bit, arm in front of him a little bit, in front of his vitals, and started rummaging around his jacket, he heard the first gunshot, and he dropped again, drawing the pistol he'd brought and making sure it was in working order. "I told you they wanted you dead," he said very tightly, taking two seconds to recognize the hostiles in the trees, and three very perfect shots later, two from Bucky, and another hitting his arm and ricochetting away, there was only a few ringing echoes in the clearing. Bucky was slightly confused. Only two? And they were in the middle of no where, if this was HYDRA he would have expected a lot more, and with huge force and not in the middle of the day. Perhaps they were scouts. Bucky was breathing rather steady, and he looked down to Steve, frowning. "I don't know what they were. We need to check," he said, not holstering his gun and definitely not dropping his guard. Would it be safer to leave Steve in the grass or bring him into the open. Bucky's grey eyes watched the blond as he thought about it, unsure.

Steve reflectively flinched and covered his head to duck lower into the grass when Bucky began to fire shots from the pistol he brandished in his right hand. He slowly opened his eyes when it was over and lifted his head up, letting out a breath he had been holding and his heart beginning to slow the hammering rhythm against his ribs. His blue eyes rounded with shock-- he really should have expected this to be one smooth ride. He averted his eyes apologetically, "Do you want me to go with you?" He hated feeling like he was ninety pounds wet again, he shouldn't be hesitating to help but something about the look in Bucky's eyes made him want to stay put so he didn't mess anything up further.

Bucky was trying to maintain his composure, but Steve's wounded dog expression confused him more than anything. Did he think he was at fault for this? Bucky couldn't be sure, but he immediately yearned to make it better for the other, and he glanced to where he knew the bodies would be for a few moments before offering his currently unoccupied left hand. No one on his side was bleeding or injured, and that was the most important thing. Bucky's senses were honed on any changes at all, and he managed a tight-- very very tight-- smile in Steve's direction as he got to his feet. "Of course," he said, and that was what he felt was the right thing. "You can watch my six like the old days." Bucky wasn't entirely sure that the old days were but he felt as if the statement fit what he was trying to say. 

Steve still felt a little foolish for acting the way he was, he shouldn't be feeling so-...weak. He reached out and gripped at his left hand and gave it a small squeeze before he was being pulled up into a standing position. He felt even more guilty for not even being prepared for this type of situation when Bucky suggested he watched his six. He should have known better and brought his shield with him. He shouldn't have left his guard down. This was nothing more than a mission to Bucky- That is how it should have been for Steve, too. When they were up and standing, he give a stiff smile and let go of his hand and gave him a nod, "We should go check those bodies," he suggested what Bucky had already said before beginning to walk that way.

Bucky waited until Steve had his feet and then he was almost smirking. Of course they were going to check out the bodies, Steve didn't even need to say it out loud. But he simply started walking too, eyes scanning like he was searching for prey as they moved through the flowers, the gun a menacing contrast to the scenery-- it wasn't like Bucky had asked to be ambushed. He was cautious as they finally got into the trees, and the smell of iron was thick through the air, Bucky not even batting an eyelid as he went over to a corpse and stood over it, nonchalantly toeing it so it rolled onto it's side. He saw the bullet wound to the head and nodded to himself. Good work. He would've been rewarded for that if he'd been with someone else. He bobbed down next to the body now and started to examine it before giving the body a pat down. He didn't register that he was patting down an actual body, no, this was just information gathering now...

Steve didn't understand why he felt so shell shocked, watching Bucky prod at the bodies before patting down their sides. He averted his eyes and swallowed thickly- Should he go check the other body while Bucky was busy with this one? He honestly didn't know how to take Bucky when he was like this, his demeanor had switched so suddenly that it felt like whiplash. He steeped forward closer but not wanting to crowd in on his, he kneeled down next to him and gave the body a once over; there were no defining features that Steve could recognize right off. He wasn't sure what he should say as he watched how casually Bucky was handling this situation, the flowers around them seemed a lot dimmer in comparison to the swell of happiness that Steve had felt moments before. 

The pat down didn't reveal much apart from a few knives and a couple of lethal poison laced darts, all of which got tucked into Bucky's jacket so he could take home and then put into his arsenal to keep Steve safe. They'd been followed all the way here, there would probably be no skinny dipping or open tent camping... The realizations would have possibly upset the brunet-- Steve had been excited to do things-- if he hadn't been in a completely different mindset to how he'd been in the cabin. This was him on high alert. He drew one of the knives, and with it, slashed open the middle of the guy's combat gear. Sure enough, when the sheathed the knife and tugged the fabric back, he scanned the numbers tattooed over the dead man's heart, frowning just a little as he remembered how to understand the code it was written in. He needed a moment, because he hadn't done it for a while. He glanced briefly up to Steve when he thought to, and because it almost felt like habit now, he gave the other just a small smile, reassuring and tight and just... Slightly tired. He couldn't have a nice holiday, could he? He didn't want to get back into the old stuff, because this was nice. Being with Steve was nicer.

Steve flinched slightly when Bucky slashed forward with his knife, half-expecting him to cut the cavity of the man's chest right open but was ultimately relieved when he had just tore the front of his gear so he could push it aside. His brows furrowed at the numbers haphazardly scrawled against his chest but it seemed like Bucky was aware of how to figure it out. He shifted his weight on his haunches and glanced over, blinking when he realized Bucky was offering him a small smile- he looked exhausted. Steve's expression softened before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss against his cheek, "You've done so good to protect us, Bucky." He wanted to reassure him that Steve wasn't going to let him take two steps back on the progress he's made. He wasn't necessarily going to condone the violent behavior in day to day situations but this was something different and he needs to realize that it's so deep ingrained in Bucky to protect them that he might take more drastic measures to ensure that. 

Bucky was straightening up, once he'd read the man's chest, and he couldn't be bothered trying to see if the other guy was the same, even though he knew he should've. The kiss shocked him and his eyes went wide, he turned to Steve and actually had a slight blush on his cheeks. "I haven't done it properly yet," was all he could reply with as he went over to the other body, rolling it over into the correct position and cutting his clothing the same way he had the first. The same information, as Bucky had suspected, but if it had been anything it would have been worth it. Bucky straightened, still feeling the butterflies from the kiss, but their work wasn't over yet. "We need to get rid of the bodies," he said very frankly, looking to the blond and pursing his life just slightly.

Steve was a little surprised to see that there was a flush of color blooming across Bucky's cheeks but it might have been due to the chill in the air. He shifted his weight on his haunches so he was able to push himself up into standing once more. He moved over to where Bucky was standing over the other body, gear cut open in the front to reveal a matching tattoo to the other body. "Just show me what to do." He had straightened up also, squaring his shoulders off. His side bumped against Bucky's, trying to get a small bit of friction for warmth- he could still see the color contrasting against the bridge of his nose and high on his cheeks. 

Bucky wanted to hack their bodies up, honestly, in to tiny little pieces, and bury them deep so they could never be found, but really, he was almost entirely sure that wouldn't go down well with the blond at his side. At the bump, Bucky huffed slightly and didn't step away, even though once more he was confused. Even in the midst of an important extraction Steve was insistent on constant touch, which seemed mostly impractical. He glanced at the big expanse of field, and sighed. "Grab that one by the arms," he settled, and quickly moved to the upper of the assassin he was by to show Steve what to do. Basic stuff, grabbing him just under the arms, and hoisting them up. "We will drag them to the middle of that field and dump them. Leave them. they will decompose nicely into the soil," Bucky explained, already shifting and moving so he could begin his trek. The dead weight wasn't too bad, but it wouldn't be quick when they had to go through all the grass and things.

Steve nodded silently and went over to the opposite body to mirror Bucky's movements, reaching down to grab the man under the armpits and hoisted him up easily so they could begin dragging them to whet Bucky designated. He couldn't help but cringe slightly at the way they were just dragging the bodies through the flowers, either effectively crushing them or ripping them up from the ground due to them catching on pieces of fabric on the men's combat gear. He was almost sure that he wouldn't want to come back to this area of the woods ever again. Something that he was looking forward to being on their route for a routine walk s now out of the question and maybe it hadn't been a good idea in the first place. Steve should have just stayed inside. It would be too much of a risk for him to properly get out and see any other part of the area around the cottage if it meant their would be a higher chance of them being hunted down. With two hostiles down, there were bound to be more behind them. Steve kept quiet and obediently rested the body down against the tall grass where Bucky was doing the same, straightening use and looking out to see the slight trail of crushed flowers in their wake with a small frown. Now he wa just waiting for Bucky's next instructions.

The trail they created was the only problem Bucky had with this plan. He didn't want anyone finding these bodies, and even though he had never come across any other souls while on living here, it would be Steve's luck that someone happened to want to wander through the countryside and somehow find these. So Buck unceremoniously dropped his body on the ground, shaking out his arms and giving the corpse a disdainful look. "We need to cover them," he realized, and dropped to his knees quickly so he could start pulling the crushed grass and flowers over the bodies, effectively camoflaging the bodies from any birds-eyes views. "Then we need to sort the path out, stand them up as much as we can," he planned quietly. This was more than these bodies deserved, he knew it.

Steve followed in suit and dropped down onto his knees and began covering the body with flowers and dew wet grass, keeping his head ducked down and quiet. Once the body was effectively covered he shifted his weight and pushed himself up off the ground so he could make his way over to begin hiding the trail of crushed flowers by brushing his hands over it and standing up some of the ones that survived. He waited for Bucky to do the same a he straightened up and pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, "Now what?" He asked softly, he felt a little out of his element. He looked over their handiwork and felt confident that the bodies wouldn't be discovered but at the same time it still made him feel a little sick to his stomach. Crossing his arms loosely against his chest- he didn't want to be here anymore. He just wanted to be back in the cottage. 

Bucky was silent also as he moved and copied Steve's movements, and when they'd gotten back to the trees the assassins were killed in. Bucky looked at Steve's posture, the way the tension made him look so uncomfortable. So Bucky did something that he imagined Steve would appreciate. He walked forward in silence for a moment, and when he got close enough, he wrapped his arms around Steve's torso carefully, balancing his chin on the other's shoulder, blinking at him. He took a deep breath, and pursed his lips slightly. "I'm sorry you had to be apart of that," he murmured softly, swallowing some and pulling away just a little bit. "Do you want to go home?" He asked, and he seemed to forget what they had just been doing, with his tone so soft and careful. "We can go home and forget that this ever happened."

His muscles tensed a little when Bucky came forward suddenly with a slightly stern look, but ultimately relaxed when arms were being wrapped around his waist. He leaned forward and felt his muscles settle heavily against Bucky, pressing his cheek against his shoulder, "I'm a big boy, Buck. I can handle it." Despit saying that, he did feel a little drained. When he felt Bucky loosen his grip a little and lean back, he was forced with looking at Bucky head on, lips pursed. He swallowed thickly and let his own expression crumple a little to reveal how he really felt, giving a small nod, "I want to go home." He said quietly, before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Bucky's shoulders and letting his head rest in the crook of his neck. "Take me home, Bucky," he didn't care how much of a petulant brat he sounded like, he just wanted to stay close to where Bucky was so they could both be safe. 

Steve's expression crumbling was the most awful thing, and Bucky didn't like how it made his stomach twist and curl. Bucky silently knew that Steve was now his only weakness, because he would do anything to protect him and make sure he was alright. He was feeling things he'd never felt before due to this little blond who was now holding him around the shoulders, and for a second he tightened his grip around Steve's waist, turning his head and pressing a kiss to the side of Steve's head. "Yeah, I'll take you home," he cooed, and not even letting both arms let go of Steve's waist, he turned them carefully and started in the direction of their home. Their little cottage... And it was their home, Bucky realized as he held Steve's hips close to his own. Steve was always welcome at Bucky's cottage, and Bucky wanted to spend time with him there... "We can cuddle up in front of the fire, maybe I can read you some Russian novels?" He offered, wanting to find a pass time that wouldn't be as bad as what they'd just done, something that would take Steve's-- and Bucky's, supposed-- minds off it.

Steve's muscles relaxed even more as a kiss was being pressed to his temple and cheek before he was being guided to backpedal towards the direction they came from, Bucky's keeping him close. He stayed in that position for a few moments lingers before he was able to shift his weight so he was standing next to him, plastered to his side with arms wound around his waist to keep him in place. "That sounds so nice right now." Steve said honestly, rubbing his cheek into Bucky's shoulder before straightening up a bit so he didn't have to support a majority of Steve's weight. He was ready to be home, their home. His stomach fluttered a little, feeling a little less wound up compared to how he was moments before. He wasn't ready to give up on the idea of taking morning walks with Bucky some mornings, but it was probably a good idea to let things settle a few days before trying again.

Bucky easily took Steve's weight, so he was about to tell him that he didn't need to walk as much himself, but it seemed that Steve had already made his decision. Bucky was actually quite pleased that Steve wanted to cuddle in front of the fire, because the action seemed like something he would enjoy a fair bit. Over the day, just from last night, he'd realized that touching wasn't as bad, and he liked touching Steve like this a fair bit. He was warm and touching him felt like it was right. Like they'd been touching for forever. "We're going to be okay," Bucky said softly, as going through the flowers now wasn't as morbid as it had been when they were dragging dead bodies through them. "I'll make sure they can't hurt you, Stevie." He said, the nickname feeling like it was the right thing to say right in this moment.


	20. Chapter 20

Their hips were bumping every so often as they made their way through the flowers, feeling a little more at piece now compared to what they were doing before. He felt his breath hitch at the next few words Bucky spoke, "Yeah, we're going to be okay." His voice cracked, reaching a hand down to intertwine their fingers in the space between them, his fingers squeezing at the warmed metal of Bucky's left hand. Steve blinked, feeling his a cheeks warm slightly as he looked over at him, no being shy about openly staring at him as he felt his lips part like he was about to say something. Stevie. Bucky just called him Stevie and he couldn't keep his stomach from twisting into a warm knot, his fingers tightening against the pressure plates in his hand. He decided against saying anything, his lips forming a dopey smile before looking forward once more- the last thing they needed was Bucky snagging the toe of his shoe against a root and bringing Bucky down with him.

Bucky's instincts had been right, it seemed. The moment he'd said the name Steve had settled him under that intense blue gaze, looked surprisingly young for a good few moments, and then had smiled so honestly and truly Bucky wasn't sure what to do with the way it settled in his mind like a snapshot. So Bucky just took a breath and carefully squeezed Steve's hand right back. He didn't want to hurt him, and he still wasn't sure of his arms capacity to not hurt things, so he wanted to be extra vigilant. Probably not for the last time, Bucky silently wished he could touch Steve properly with a real left hand... They had been walking in silence for a good while now, the cottage was just visible down the road, and Bucky glanced to the side. He didn't know why, but he felt the intense need to apologize. "I'm sorry our walk was ruined," he said tightly, blinking quickly. It wasn't his fault so he didn't know why he would say sorry... It just felt right. He had to live on what felt right now, seeing as Steve had flipped his world upside down.

In the silence, Steve began to swing their clasped hands lightly between them- they were close to the cottage now. He slowed down a little at the apology, "Bucky." He started gently, giving his hand one more squeeze before continuing. "None of that was on you. I should be apologizing for letting my guard down." He said honestly, if he wasn't so engrossed in sticking to Bucky's side...maybe he could have helped. He was secure in himself enough that it didn't bother him that he was pretty much a damsel in distress, but he is more dissapointed with himself that he wasn't prepared. He swallowed thickly and let his grip loosen a little the closer they got to the cottage, following behind Bucky up the short set of steps onto the porch. He offered a meek smile before releasing his hand- Steve needed to stay ontop of things and focus to also keep them safe.

Bucky heard his name, and it was firm and demanded attention, so he listened intently, feeling every influx of pressure Steve was giving him. He mulled Steve's words over in his head as he approached his home, and he was looking for anything in the drive way out of place, indicating any visitors, and he watched the windows quickly and listened hard, but for the moment nothing moved. "I live to protect you," Bucky said, and he was leaning towards the door. If he were first through and got shot due to an ambush, then maybe Steve would have time to escape perhaps. Bucky couldn't smell anything different, but he couldn't be sure. Yes, the men in the clearing had been amateurs, but Bucky knew who were coming after them and they did not make any rookie mistakes. "Do you think there will be hostiles inside?" He asked softly, looking backwards over his shoulder to his guest, wanting his analysis because Steve was a Captain with lots of experience in leading people in situations like this. 

Steve felt a swell of pressure in his belly from Bucky's earnest expression, "I want to protect you, too." He said honestly, taking a step closer behind him so that he could listen carefully - nothing seemed out of order and what he could tell, there was no shift in the air that indicated movement around or behind the door. "It's clear." Unless they were holding their breath then Steve was sure that no one was around. "You can open the door, Buck." He finished saying, pressing a quick kiss to the back of his neck before moving to stand beside him, their sides touching lightly at the close proximity. 

Bucky could have determined that as well, but unlike a lot of the missions he had to be on before, having a second opinion made him a lot more confident. The kiss also made him more confident, and he went and touched the door handle carefully, very ready to draw his weapon and start blowing people's brains out if he thought there was a threat. So he pushed it open very quickly, steely gaze searching everywhere, and he took a second to realize there was a person on their couch, a redhead woman reading a book and he was drawing his weapon before even asking questions, prepared to do anything to keep Steve safe, even if that meant destroying a few of his furniture items in the process.

Steve offered a small nod of confidence before stepping aside enough for Bucky to begin opening the door carefully. He noticed immediately the way Bucky's shoulders and the muscles in his back tense up as he reached down to pull the pistol at his hip free from the holster hidden behind his jacket. "Buc--Nat?" He quickly moved infromt of Bucky to stand between him and the lithe woman stretched out on their couch with a book propped on a bent knee, seemingly unfazed by the sudden appearance of them both. He noticed one of her brows raise sharply and settle him with an unimpressed pointed look before Steve swallowed thickly and turned on his heel to carefully place his hand against Bucky's hand to coax him into lowering his gun. "Bucky, it's okay. This is Natasha- someone I know." He wasn't being very specific but he couldn't calm his racing heart and thoughts. Steve had sent out texts to them before leaving, he was a little frustrated that they'd send Natasha after him as if he couldn't handle himself. He didn't need a babysitter. 

Bucky couldn't help his expression going a little sour when Steve stepped between him and his target. Bucky had been about to pull the trigger, and he could've easily pulled it just as Steve had been walking in front. That would have been awful... So he scowled, still holding the gun up high because there was no way he was going to stand there unarmed while there was a threat in the room. A threat, because the person had sneaked into his house to read his books instead of waiting for them to get home. And he recognised her. He didn't know from where until he opened his mouth, and then the information wouldn't stop. "You may know her, but that woman is KGB and she could very well kill you in an instant," he said firmly, and he had to ignore the huff that came from behind the blond, behind the person keeping that woman alive for seemingly no reason. Steve could know her and still let her die. People he killed often knew lots of other people, because that's how it worked... "Step aside, Steve. I need to neutralise the threat...."

His shoulders squared, a pinched look forming on his face before he gave a shake of his head, "No." He wasn't trying to sound petulant but Bucky really needed to listen to him. He wanted to keep the situation from escalating into something worse than what it already was. He wanted to step out of this without any slip ups. "Bucky, listen. I work with her at SHIELD. You've got to know that after being sent after me in the first place?" He wasn't really keen on bringing up things like that, but he was sure they force fed information to Bucky before they met again. He continued to stand Inbetween them, his broad form keeping Natasha carefully separated from Bucky so they could not see each other. Part of him felt like Natasha wasn't speaking up in spite of him as he fumbled with what to say to make Bucky believe that she really wasn't a threat to either of them. "Bucky, please." He said this a bit softer, his hand still placed ontop of his to keep his gun lowered.

Bucky was so tense as Steve talked to him, trying to lean his weight on different legs so he could see around the blond to the intruder. It was almost like Steve's words to him were underwater, because he wasn't focusing, and sure, he wasn't going to pull the trigger with Steve right in front of the barrel, but god, did he want to kill the bitch who had slipped into their home like it was hher who owned the place. Like a dog guarding it's territory, Bucky wanted it back to himself and Steve. However, those two words that left Steve's mouth on the final moment, his gaze magnetic, had Bucky looking up and seeing those pleading eyes and he lowered his gun almost in a huff, scowling and looking like storm on legs, nothing could be done to get him back to the feelin's he'd had moments before. "She even breathes funny, and her head is the new color of the walls, you hear me?" He asked loudly so Steve understood and it would get to the woman he did not want around. His eyes were molten, nothing but serious. "Find out why she is here or I will find out myself and I won't be nice."

Steve flinched at how harsh Bucky's tone was as he spit the words out, "I hear you." He replied quickly, releasing his own sigh of relief despite his muscles being tense and heart continuing to hammer against his ribs. He hesitated on turning his back on Bucky, not sure what he'd do without his eyes on him, but he could feel that narrowed gaze burning holes into the back of his head. He took a step closer to the couch but still stood between the two; this probably looked worse on their part. He wanted to show Natasha that he had things under control but what it looked like was Steve was being kept on a short leash under someone who wasn't completely stable themselves. He inhaled sharply before speaking up, "What are you doing here, Nat?" He didn't want to come off harsh because he actually did enjoy seeing her and that she was well- but she always did treat him like a younger brother. Like he couldn't handle himself. He glanced over his shoulder at Bucky to gauge his reaction, his eyes icy and now focused on the form on the couch. He didn't want to stand too close to the couch himself, especially if Bucky was feeling this territorially; like he'd bite anyone who even got close to Steve.

Steve turning away from him assured Bucky that the blond wouldn't see how he was still clutching his gun very tightly, and how he was still watching the redhead now like he wouldn't hesitate in the slightest to blow her brains out. He took a breath then settled enough in a stance where he could easily raise the gun where it was lowered at his side and then make some very quick decisions. Natasha however, finally lowered the book she'd been reading onto her lap, looking as if this was the moment she'd been waiting for from the two men. She shifted and looked absolutely calm as she settled Steve with a very steady gaze, deliberately looking over to Bucky then back to the blond as she crossed her ankles, then her hands delicately in her lap, expression open and falsely innocent. "I get a text from you in the middle of the night, saying you're leaving, and you think I'm going to stay put?" She asked, and she masked the fact that Steve leaving without any warning had made her almost fret and become more than a little worried. "Then I find out you're with the Winter Soldier, and you think I'll step back and let you do this on your own?" The name had Bucky taking in a sharp breath and tensing all over, Natasha's face exuding the confidence she felt about this, and sureness about it all.

Before anything else came out of his mouth, the sharp inhale behind him made him tense at the name, "Don't call him that." His shoulders squared as his brows furrowed with a tight lipped frown forming on his lips. He glanced to the side but kept himself from turning around completely to face Bucky, he just wanted everything to stay calm. He wanted Bucky to be okay. He quickly focused his eyes back on Natasha, "I'm fine. You rally didn't have to-" he swallowed thickly at how easily they were found. It was Natasha they were talking about, but still. "You didn't have to come here." He wanted to ask how she had tracked them down so quickly but he wouldn't be surprised if he had some sort of tracker on him. It would be just /terrible/ if SHIELD lost their golden boy; he thought this bitterly, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't just pushing out hot air when he had told Bucky that they should just start a new life here, where no one knew who they were. "What do you want, Natasha?" He wasn't even going to ask how she got here at this point, that was done. He visibly deflated, feeling more exhausted than he has in days. "I'm not going back." He took a step back after saying that, shifting and moving so that he was standing at Bucky's right side, opposite of the hand that was still tightly gripping at the gun. They probably looked silly; Steve the spitting image of a teenage girl yelling at her parents 'I love him' despite them not approving of the new boyfriend. 

Bucky was standing like he was a guard, and he was clocking every single response Natasha was giving Steve's words. She was smiling at some points, looking disappointed or amused in others, and she waited until the final position of Steve standing at Bucky's side, a united front, before speaking. She was pretty unsure what to make of this arrangement. She knew about Barnes, of course, but the James Barnes from before the war definitely wasn't the man standing next to her friend ready to fire a gun at her head. So she took a breath, and shifted along the couch to perch on the arm of it, watching the pair of them calmly, her expression unreadable. "I'm not going to ask you to come back, as it seems he already has you wrapped around his trigger finger," she said, and she let some of the bitterness into her tone, her steely blue eyes on Steve, not acknowledging the soldier because she knew that he didn't want to be watched. He was protecting, not apart of the discussion, like a good little machine. "But you don't need to try and hide the fact that having someone else to keep an eye out for hostiles." She raised her eyebrows. "You got anything to say on the matter of two men sent to kill you earlier this morning-- not even an hour ago, really?" Bucky shifted a little bit where he stood. How did he not know that she had surveillence on them? How did she know about them and he didn't? He grit his jaw, only a little bit, tilting his chin up and waiting for Steve to be the voice for both of them.

Steve's eyes rounded, feeling that familiar swell of guilt in the pit of his stomach that he had before from not being on guard when they were outside. "We handled it." His words clipped as he spoke, shifting his weight to his other foot as his hip bumped lightly against Bucky's. He craved that contact that kept him grounded and focused. Natasha was right; he was already too far gone and set on staying by Bucky's side that he wouldn't go without a fight if she had asked him to leave. "That still doesn't answer why you're here. I'm surprised you didn't bring the whole team here." Part of him was grateful though that Natasha was quick to take the initiative to come and find him just in case something did happen; but everything was okay. There was no point of her being here unless she was planning to drag him back kicking and screaming.   
Bucky would have bumped Steve back but now wasn't the time, not at all. He was too busy being a guard, not the Bucky Steve was used to. He couldn't let himself be distracted by touch and emotion when there was a very imminent threat in the same room as them. Natasha huffed a little bit, rolling her eyes at the blond. "Steve, I'm here to protect you," she said bluntly, and her tone suggested that Steve was missing something obvious. He was, that's why she was suggesting it. The Soldier was a very big threat, and Steve seemed to be so blinded by past emotion that he didn't realize that. "You do realize you ran off to the middle of no where with a man who is potentially hostile, right?" She asked, ignoring the way Bucky's lip was curling a little bit. "I thought about bringing the whole team too, Clint, mainly, because he knows how to deal with brainwashing more than the rest of us..."

"We've got this handled," Steve repeated like that would prove his point, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering. He felt like he was fighting a losing battle at this point, Natasha still looking just as skeptical the more he spoke. "Bucky's protecting me." His brows furrowing. He felt a little sick to his stomach at the wave of tension forming in his muscles at the mention of Brainwashing, he felt himself glance over at Bucky at his side, was he just being to proud to ask for help? Maybe he really was getting a little ahead of himself. There was no way things could easily get fixed over a few days with sweet words and promises underneath the blanket that things will get better before they know it. They had not really sat and extensively about what was on Bucky's mind aside from minor slip ups that had sent him spiraling into a panic attack. He quickly looked back to Natasha and ducked his chin down a bit at the knowing look she was giving him. "I'm not leaving without him, Nat." If she was suggesting that this was bigger than what they could handle on their own, he was willing on doing whatever it took to get Bucky back to a better place- compared to him looking feral and snarling with the gun gripped tightly in his hand. 

Bucky himself wasn't even sure why brainwashing had even been brought up. No one had been brainwashed so it was a pointless statement and he wanted to say that, but when two superiors were talking he knew he wasn't allowed to speak, that was a big rule he needed to follow. So he just shifted on his feet, not even in the right mind set to feel flattered at Steve's unwavering loyalty to him. He would've blushed, he was sure of it. Natasha let a silence grow, heavy on all their shoulders, and slowly she was standing, not sudden of course, because she didn't have a death wish. "There's enough space on the couch for little old me," she finally said, wondering if she would have to spell it out for Steve even more after saying it. She could just see it in Steve's eyes that he knew she had a very good point. His soft words and the way he was angled towards Bucky was another slap in the face about how gone the blond was.... She huffed, crossing her arms carefully over her chest. "And there we go, everyone is happy with that arrangement, hmm?" She asked, canting a sculpted brow and standing in front of the two men like a commanding officer.

Steve gave a small frown at that, "Nat," he said a bit exasperated, "I'm not going to have you sleeping on the couch." That was just a part of him that respected Natasha to much to have her camping out in their living room, "That's besides the point. This isn't all my decision, you have to ask Bucky." He was still here in the room with them and this wasn't going to be just solely his decision. He carefully reached down and slipped his hand into his warm flesh one, giving it a tight squeeze to get his attention and ground him a little in the situation they're in. He himself wasn't really looking forward to having a third in their home if that's what she was suggesting. He almost pulled his hand away at the narrowed look she was giving him. He swallowed thickly but kept his eyes locked with hers, not backing down- he wasn't here just to play house, she didn't know anything about how he and Bucky had been before everything. 

Why was he being brought into it? That was Bucky's first thought, and it took him a few seconds to fully comprehend what the redhead wanted and then further on what Steve was asking of him. He was expected to give his opinion on the matter, even though Steve had more rank and had all the authrority in the world to say yes or no to his comrade. Bucky blinked slowly, and didn't even have the mind to squeeze Steve's hand back, his metal hand instead tightening on the gun and making the metal creak a little bit as his eyes widened. He didn't know what Steve wanted him to say-- he could assume it was going to be that he wanted the redhead to leave, Steve's posture and tension was enough indication on that, but.... The woman looked like she would be able to help, and Bucky's whole mission was to keep Steve safe. Bucky faltered, looking to both the people in his home before shutting his mouth tight and looking to the floor, mind spinning just a little bit. Natasha on the other hand was watching the emotions flicker across the Soldier's face, and she didn't hesitate to speak when the silence had gotten too heavy. "He's not asking me to leave," she pointed out, raising her eyebrows again. "So I guess that means I can stay, right?" 

He didn't know what to say, Bucky had a major say in this but chose to stay quiet. He slipped his hand out of Bucky's loose one and let his arm rest heavy at his side. "You can stay." He said a bit stiffly, "Hope you packed warm clothes." Is all he said before shifting his weight and side stepping around Bucky to head towards the kitchen, his words were clipped as he spoke. He didn't really know what to make of this whole situation- Natasha had forced her way into their home and taking up camp in their living room and he was feeling a little more than upset that Bucky didn't say anything to any of this. It was all resting on Steve to make the decisions now. He pulled open the fridge door and leaned down enough to reach a water bottle that was pushed towards the back, "If you're hungry, I'm sure you can figure something out to make." He knew he was being a little petty about the whole thing but despite a few set backs, he felt like they had everything under control and he didn't need someone to be sent in to micromanage their lives. He uncapped the water to take a swig from it before closing it back and moving into the living so he could make it past to the narrow hallway leading towards their bedroom in the back, "I'm going to go finish unpacking my things." 

Bucky didn't like the way Steve stopped touching him, and the hand around his gun loosened it's grip slightly. His stern, sharp expression was faltering just a little bit-- had he done something wrong by not interfering and being quiet like a good boy. Immediately he knew he'd been bad, and Natasha was throwing herself onto the couch to finish her book, watching Bucky out of the corner of her eye. Bucky's stomach had dropped to the floor almost, and he was following Steve almost entirely, body shifting and forlorn eyes not letting any movement go unnoticed. He didn't even care about Natasha anymore, because Steve was his priority and somehow he'd managed to fuck up very badly and now Steve wasn't happy... "Steve," he said softly, taking half a step towards where the blond was going to go. Natasha was smiling just a little bit, seeing the first humanoid aspect of the Soldier was interesting as much as it was simply heartbreaking. "Steve," he said again, brow pulled together, and his tone was entirely confused and unsure.


	21. Chapter 21

Steve faltered making his way down the hallway, stopping midway to look over his should to see Bucky standing there looking completely unsure of himself with a worried look pinching his features. Alright, Steve was probably being an asshole but he had a small right to be upset. He exhaled a breath through his nose before speaking, "You can come back here. It's your room too, Bucky." He said this a bit softer, he wasn't going to shut Bucky out over something that he most likely wasn't aware he was doing. He waited a moment for him to move towards Steve before reaching out to take his hand and give it a squeeze, leading him towards their room. This was as good as a time as any to talk to him about what just happened and actually make sure this was okay with him before anything was settled, the atmosphere a little less tense without Natasha there to watch them closely and Bucky's hand on the trigger. "Actually, come back here with me for a minute. You can help me." Saying this as a way to soothe Bucky's a little more to assure that he wasn't upset with him, just with how things had went down.

Bucky was moving automatically as soon as Steve ordered him to, and Natasha was still watching them over the brim of her book, intrigued at how Steve had managed to get the position of handler so easily over such a machine. They'd only been together for no longer than 72 hours, but the Soldier was following after Steve like a lost puppy. Bucky wanted to help. He wanted to make it better, so he was tucking his gun back into his clothing, and because Steve was alright with the redhead staying with them he had no qualms with leaving her alone in the living room in front of the embers of the fire. He took Steve's hand and squeezed gratefully, though his expression was still worried and confused. "I'm sorry," he said, before they had even gotten to the bedroom. He didn't want Steve to be mad at him, and he wanted to make it better. "I'm so sorry Steve." He didn't know what he'd done wrong, but apologizing for it was the best start of reconciling and making Steve happy again.

Steve could feel a small frown forming on his lips, his brows furrowed, "Bucky, baby." He started softly, pulling him into the bedroom before he continued- he really didn't want Natasha eavesdropping on them. He shut the door behind them and gently released his hand before reaching up to cup his cheeks between warm palms, "I'm not mad at you." His tone earnest as he spoke. He made sure that Bucky's eyes were on him, he didn't want him to feel like he needed to keep his eyes averted as they spoke. "Natasha I'm use to- but you had just as much choice in that as I did, maybe even more. If you're really not comfortable with her being here, then I'll have a talk with her." He smoothed the pad of his thumb against the sensitive skin underneath Bucky's left eyes. "This is your home, too." He said a bit softer, leaning his head forward to knock their foreheads together.

Bucky wanted to look to the floor, he really did. He felt like he'd been very bad and he didn't want Steve to punish him for trying to make eye contact. However, he was forced to look up, once his name and endearment were spoken. He knew Steve would be upset if he ever admitted that he'd expected the hands on his cheeks to slap him, instead of cradle his face. Steve's words had him frowning again. Steve had been mad at him, he'd seen his expression, and all his body language. He didn't dispute it though, worried he would get himself back into the trouble Steve was denying. He was breathing slowly and steadily, and Steve talking about Natasha now had Bucky shaking his head. even if it had been Bucky's home first, Steve had first priority over what happened to it. That's just how it was going to be. Even if Steve wanted to knock this down-- hopefully he didn't-- even though Bucky didn't like it he'd have to agree. "If you trust Natasha I think she can help me take care of you," he said softly, blinking slowly. He didn't trust her with his own life of course, but if Steve trusted her that was something very important. Steve being so close calmed him though, and his hands at his sides loosened out of the fists they had been in. "She can help keep you safe, I think."

"You can keep me safe too, Bucky. Just like how I'm going to keep you safe." He appreciated that Bucky wasn't going to be angry about Natasha staying with them, but at the same time he wanted him to have just as much say in this. "Plus, I don't think SHIELD is going to let two of their operatives go. She'll have to go back eventually." Or the worst case scenario would be they'd send the rest of the team. He gave a soft smile and smoothed his thumbs over Bucky's cheeks before leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss against his forehead, noticing the way his muscles were visibly relaxing as his shoulders sagged forward. "But if there's even one moment where you want her to leave, you can say so." He assured him, pressing one more kiss against his temple before taking a step back, the hands cupping his face sliding down to squeeze his broad shoulders. He wasn't sure how this was all going to work out, but he did know that it was most likely not going to be a smooth ride. "Are you okay?" He asked almost hesitantly- Bucky did react aggressively to the sight of Natasha in the first place, he wanted to make sure he was completely settled down before we headed back out there.

Bucky didn't want to leave his home yet, especially now that he and Steve had seemed to be just settling in. They could settle in, if they had an entire week, but Steve was making it sound like their safe time was now somehow limited. Bucky didn't like the sound of that at all, and his expression remained a little pinched even if his posture was more calm and relaxed. The kiss helped smooth his brow a little bit, but he was still doubting and still unsure if Steve was no longer mad at him or not. Bucky wanted her to leave, that woman in his living room, he really did, but he also wanted her to stay. An extra pair of eyes would help keep Steve safe, and just because Bucky liked being more isolated would not give him enough premise to speak up on the matter, even if Steve said he should. He just huffed a little bit. "I'm okay," he said automatically, because it wasn't like he wasn't okay. He was fine, just a little confused as to what the future was going to hold now. It was obvious the redhead didn't like or trust him, and the sentiment was returned, but they revolved around Steve, and Bucky could deal with that common ground. "Did you want me to help you unpack?" He offered, because that was easier to deal with than the thoughts bouncing around his head.

He gave his shoulders another squeeze before letting go and giving Bucky a small smile, "If you want to, yeah." His smile growing a little at the offer of help- something about them just putting away clothes in comfortable silence warmed the pit of his stomach. It was the small mundane things that they did that made Steve the happiest- it felt normal. He was sure Natasha would probably camp out on the couch the rest of the day with her books or go out to do some walking around the area for the rest of the evening. Probably the latter, knowing her not to be the one to be able to sit still for long with free time on her hands. He came back to himself and realized that Bucky was still standing there as if waiting for more direction. This would one of the bigger things they'd have to work on together, something that would take some time and patience on both of their ends. Meanwhile, he expression softened a bit as he took a small step forward, far enough for him to lean in and press a warm close-mouthed kiss against the corner of his mouth, "Want to help me put some clothes away and then we can figure out something to cook?"

Bucky stood obediently while waiting for a direct order, calm now that Steve was giving him some direction, and he had no troubles in just looking at Steve's pleasant expression, and then Steve was kissing him and it felt amazing, Bucky turning his head just a little bit to get him full on the mouth for a little peck. That was better, and he nodded, smiling. "Your bag is in the cupboard," he said, and he was stepping back to go get it for the other. This was good. Moving, action, or simply just knowing what was going on. He liked that best. He liked knowing what was happening, and not being confused. That was what was best. He got to the cupboard, his lips tingling just a little bit, and got the bag out. "Are we cooking something for lunch?" he queried, and was happy he could ask something like that and not be worried that he would be punished for speaking out. They would have to cook for the redhead now too, he realised, and he almost let his expression darken, but he was too well trained for that, and just set the bag on the bed how Steve probably wanted him to.

Steve's tongue peeked out a bit to swipe over his lower lip, his skin buzzing from the contact of Bucky's lips pressing back against his own. He couldn't keep the dopey smile from pulling at the corners of his own lips, ducking his head down to hide it, "I was thinking that maybe I'd cook for you today?" He suggested, he wanted to care for Bucky but by the way his brows furrowed he continued, "Or if you really can't sit still long enough for me to be the one to cater to you, you can always help me prep the food before I cook?" A soft laugh bubbled up from his chest, feeling warm all over. This was good, things were going a little more smoother than they were and Bucky wasn't as hesitant to speak his mind compared to how he was less that an hour ago. He watched him place the suit case on top of the bed before he stepped up and began to unzip it. "I might have packed a little too much." He said more to himself than anything, a little sheepish at how his clothes kind of spilled over the edge, crammed inside the suitcase haphazardly where they had left so quickly from his apartment.

Bucky liked both of those options, and decided he would choose on one after this first task was done. That would be easier to deal with, rather than think of the whole packing thing as well as wanting to help Steve while also letting Steve do as he first wished. Letting someone cook and feed him was different and new, but he wasn't too sure about it just yet. He would have to see how he felt about it when it got to that. Bucky was already reaching into the suitcase with a soft smile, Steve's laughter and slight sheepishness enough to make him happy, and he took the first hangable items and went to the cupboard to start sliding them onto hooks, mixing Steve's clothing with his own. It looked nicer than Bucky cared to admit, and he didn't know why. "It's better to be over prepared than under prepared," Bucky said simply, looking content as he went about what he'd decided to do.

"Yeah, you're right." He nodded his head to himself and reached into his suitcase to pull out a few shirts and a pair of sleep pants. He unfolded them and gave a shirt a quick shake to knock the wrinkles out a little before moving over to where Bucky was so he could reach into the wardrobe to pull out a hanger to begin hooking the shirts on them and placing them inside, moving with Bucky's clothing. He felt his skin warm affectionately at how easily things like this could come together. It didn't take long for them to get the clothes hung up and out of the way, zipping up his suitcase and kneeling down so he could slide it under the bed to make some more space in the bedroom; he glanced over at Bucky, still on his knees. "What are you hungry for?" He wet his lower lip and sat back on his calves with his hands placed neatly on his lap. 

The companionable silence that settled over the both of them as they packed Steve's things away... Bucky considered it to be one of the nicest things he'd experienced in a long time. They were enjoying just being next to each other, and they didn't need mundane chatter to enjoy it.. It was just perfect. Bucky almost had the urge to make noise, like hum or something, but he couldn't recall something to hum, so he remained silent and only a little bit sad as to why he didn't know anything. However, any thoughts along those lines disappeared the moment Bucky looked at Steve fully on the ground like that. It seemed submissive, and Bucky was unsure as to why, but his cheeks went a bright, bright pink, his abdomen curling immediately, and he took a quick breath in. He didn't know why his body was reacting the way it way, but it was something to do with the way Steve was knelt, it had to be. He gaped for a split second, but recovered enough to say, "What are you hungry for?" Instead. He couldn't think, and also he wasn't hungry. He had eaten once today already, that was enough? Why did Steve look so nice like this?! 

Steve looked up at him from beneath thick blonde lashes before averting his eyes to hum softly in thought. He noticed the obvious diversion in the track off conversation where Bucky was avoiding answering the direct question. That was okay, he would think of something. "How about some grilled cheeses?" That s something simple and but filling and warm, if Bucky chose to eat anything that'd be the safest bet. He tapped his fingers against his thighs, the sitting position coming almost naturally to him. When he wasn't getting an immediate response he looked back up at him- a flush was working its way down towards his neck and below his shirt collar, "Buck?" He asked softly, feeling a little swell of apprehension developing in the pit of his stomach, was this weird? Should he get up? He wet his lower lip once more with the tip of his tongue before biting down lightly against the chappe skin there. The words died out in the back of his throat, not really sure what he should say next as if he were weary that he'd step on some sort of land mine. He shifted his weight on his knees before his feet started to tingle with the tale tale signs of falling asleep, "Bucky?" He attempted again, his voice a little hoarse as he spoke, his own skin beginning to warm under the narrowed gaze.

Bucky was very aware that he was staring, but he wasn't sure how he was supposed to stop himself. The suggestion seemed to fall on deaf ears, and the brunet was taking slow breaths, frozen to the spot and he wasn't exactly sure what to do. So when Steve's voice finally got into his head, Bucky seemed to flinch, and he turned suddenly so his back was to Steve, and he was now watching the wall. It was easier to think like this, with no half thoughts distracting him and forcing him to try and remember why he was so affected by it. "I don't have a grill," he pointed out, not sure what Steve had been asking for when he'd said his name, so he decided to focus on what Steve had said. He'd heard it, just not acknowledged it. "I have a toaster and a cheese slice, though, if that's what you want to eat," he elaborated, hands carefully in front of himself. This was easier. Looking at t he wall was easier.

He shifted his weight once more, "I can make them in a skillet on the stove." It'd be easier to grill that way- but honestly his mind was focusing less on food and more on the fact that Bucky was blantantly avoiding looking at him. He bit his bottom lip a little harder before deciding on what he was about to do. He wanted to push buttons. The door shut and keeping the things they were saying private, "Bucky." He said softly before shifting to rest on his hands and knees, easily crawling the short space separating them, sitting back on ships haunches once more at Bucky's feet. "Bucky, look at me?" He tried again, feeling his heart begin to thud heavily against his ribs, feeling his skin burning up underneath his thick corded sweater. 

The brunet barely looked over his shoulder when he heard Steve behind him. Right behind him. Why had he moved? There had been no reason for him to move... There was a direct order in there though, and Bucky swallowed, glancing over his shoulder for a second, and Steve's pink skin, the flush disappearing under his shirt... Bucky had to suppress a small whine, but he didn't know why his body was reacting the way it was, he was suddenly very unsure and didn't know if Steve could see the tension curled up his shoulders. Bucky's hands were currently hiding something a lot more embarrassing and more unprofessional in the front of his pants, and he wasn't going to turn around again. He looked to the wall, clenching his jaw so hard his teeth ached. "I have a skillet," he simply said, not wanting to look at Steve or think about anything other than a meal they would have to make. "I don't know what a grilled cheese is but I have bought the cheese for it."

Steve could hardly focus on the words that Bucky was saying, his eyes scanning over the way his shoulders ere bunched up and muscles tensed between his shoulder blades as his hands were positioned in front of him. He could feel his breath hitch as he reached forward and grabbed at Bucky's hip so he could push a little to make him turn around to face him. He was raised up on his knees now, his face level with Bucky's lower back as he tried to gently get him to turn around for him. "Bucky, please. Turn around?" This was said more hesitant and almost pleading compared to the more commanding tone he had before, he could feel his ears burning. "Please." His voice cracking a little, he tilted his head forward press his head against the small of his back, turning to rub his face against the soft fabric of his jacket. He felt a little silly preening like some cat but he was almost desperate for the contact, even if it was just brushing his skin against his clothing. The hand gripping lightly at his hip slid down to cup the front of his kneecap to keep himself upright on his knees, feeling the slight ache seeping into his own knees from being on the hard wood floors. 

When Bucky heard Steve move this time he nearly swore and ran from the room. Steve was closer now,touching him, holding him and trying his hardest to get him to turn around. He didn't want to. He didn't want to show off his weakness, the weakness in the front of his pants, and he didn't want Steve to know why he was hiding it.he didn't want to see Steve on his knees anymore, and he didn't want to hear someone who he considered a commanding officer begging him and getting upset. He hated it, and wanted it to stop. So that's what he was going to have happen. For the first time in his life he directly avoided the order, and he shook his head, taking half a step forward to get away from steves touch.if Steve really wanted it he could easily take it from Bucky, but not today in this moment. Bucky my wouldn't concede thanks to a little bit of begging, not when he was this confused and conflicted. "Stand up, Steve. Stand up and I'll do what you want."

Steve's movements faltered a bit when Bucky suddenly stepped forward to get away from his touch, "Bucky-" he started softly but was quickly cut off by being told to stand up. He swallowed thickly at how tight and controlled his voice sound, he sounded almost uncomfortable and his muscles looked even more tense than they were. Steve wanted to croak out an apology but decided against it, shifting his weight on his knees and then pushing himself up off the floor, wavering a little before regaining his balance here he could feel the senses returning back to his legs. He stood still behind him, his head ducked down a bit but keeping his eyes on the other, he had to say something. Before he could stop himself, the apology was escaping him, "I'm sorry, that was weird, right?" He forced a small smile despit Bucky's back being turned to him. 

Bucky couldn't help the way his shoulders became more loose when he heard Steve's voice coming at him from eye level, and he turned slowly, grey eyes guarded and very cautious. He only turned half though, not wanting to reveal his little problem. Weird. It was weird. But Bucky didn't know why and he was so very confused still. So he looked Steve in the eye for a moment or two, holding his gaze, and he took a slow breath, not acknowledging the apology because he didn't know what was wrong and didn't know how to go about making it better for the both of him. "I can tidy up the room," he said instead, still as a fawn hidden in grass even though he was slightly less stressed now that the imminent situation had changed to something he knew more. "Do you think you could find the ingredients and what you needed for what you want to have for lunch?" He asked. The room was almost perfect already and Bucky knew that, but he also knew that he would need a moment to let his body calm down. He didn't want Steve to see him like this because he hadn't experienced this in all his time that he could remember and he didn't know how to make it go away.

With the tale tale signs of Bucky's body language, Steve could recognize the slumped shoulders and the position of arms- Bucky was hard. That warmed something in the pit of his stomach but he wasn't going to push this. "Yeah, I can take over lunch." He said gently. "I'll let you finish up here, Buck." He gave a small smile, he couldn't resist taking a step forward and pressed a kiss against the skin behind Bucky's ear. He pressed one more kiss their before taking a step back and grabbing one of Bucky's sweatshirts off the bed to pull it on over his tshirt. He didn't want to push him into the affection he craved but he would settle for having the musk and scent of him around him as the fabric clung to his shoulders, giving a small self-satisfied smile and moving towards the bedroom door. "I'll make you some, just in case you get hungry later." He promised and closed the door behind him. Now was the time to hopefully avoid any confrontations from Natasha so he could get through making lunch for them.

Bucky stayed still even when the kisses were administered, though they did some to calm him, Bucky could tell that Steve knew about his situation. However, the blond wasn't mentioning it or saying anything, of which he was eternally grateful... It was only when the door was closed however that Bucky let out a huge breath, going to sit on the bed so he could think through what he needed to do to help himself so he could go out into the kitchen and help Steve with cooking. It was a ridiculous situation to be in and Bucky didn't like it at all, but he would soldier on through it and find a way. He would, for Steve.

Out in the lounge, Natasha was just managing to settle comfortably in front of the fire that she'd started up again, and she looked up to smile pleasantly at Steve as he entered the room, tucking a finger into her book so she didn't lose her place. "That was a while for two people to unpack," she said brightly, even though she knew exactly what was going on because she had might have been listening in on the conversation. "Was he showing you the entire bedroom?" She asked with a quirk of her eyebrows, slightly suggestive even if her undertone was protective. She was trying to get information, and she wanted it now so she knew how to approach the subject of a brainwashed super soldier assassin.

Steve closed the door quietly behind him before turning on his heel and making his way back down the narrow hallway towards the living room. He was trying his best to avoid confrontation with Natasha on his way into the kitchen but was quickly stopped by here shifting her weight on the couch to look at him, her book propped comfortably on her lap. "There was a lot to unpack." He lied through his teeth, keeping his back turned to her so he could start pulling out things from the fridge he would need for lunch. His movements froze momentarily when she continued, her tone teasing but was sharp underlining, "We were just talking about some things, it's nothing to worry about." He wasn't ashamed of Bucky by any means, but knowing Natasha she probably wouldn't be too happy to hear that he was just on his knees moments before. "Are you hungry?" He attempted to divert the conversation down a different path, but he was sure she'd instantly catch on.


	22. Chapter 22

"I ate on the plane," Natasha responded politely, and then she was stretching up more so she could watch Steve from over the couch, her blue eyes calculating but mostly concerned. Not because she didn't think Steve couldn't handle himself, but more because she didn't trust the brunet and every person he'd been working for for the past seventy years. "Were you talking about the fact that he's been a lethal assassin for the entire time you were in the ice?" She asked, and managed to keep her tone casual and nonchalant, even though the topic was entirely heavy and probably something Steve didn't want to think about. She half knew that she shouldn't be riling Steve up, or making him more reluctant to have her around, but Natasha just wanted Steve to be thinking things through, not just throwing himself in head first without a parachute like he did in a lot of situations.

Steve shrugged his shoulders half heartedly, "Your loss. I make killer grilled cheeses." He was almost positive that she would end up picking off his plate in the end but he wouldn't hold it against her. He got out a skillet to put on one of the burners before he got out some cheese and bread to set out on the counter. He shoulders tensed up at the next thing Nastasha had said, what was he supposed to say to that. He was almost surprised that she hadn't asked why Bucky wasn't already out here with them, waiting at Steve side like a guard dog. He cleared his throat and thought over what he had said in the room. It was a lot of pleading on his half. If she had over heard anything, it would have just sounded like Steve was trying to get Bucky to listen to him, not that he was crawling up to him on his knees, rubbing up against his legs. He tried not too think too much into what she had said before he replied, "he was just cooling down. We were hanging clothes up." He brushed it off as much as he could, keeping his back turned to her.

Steve was acting like Natasha Romanoff wasn't an international spy, and he often did that, which was kind of endearing as much as it was stupid. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled just softly even if Steve couldn't see it. "Sounded like there was a little bit of begging on your part," she said, basically giving away that she'd eavesdropped. What, would Steve be surprised by that? After the reaction she got just from being in the room, she didn't think Barnes was stable, wasn't sure if he was even Barnes at all, and the redhead was determined to make sure Steve was safe. She huffed though, and left the topic. She could see the tension in Steve's shoulders, and didn't want him to burn the house down. Where that other soldier was, Natasha didn't care at all. However, there was the constant topic of the assassin, and she decided to keep poking around. If Steve didn't answer things it would be an answer in itself. "So... How did you two decide to run away together?" She asked, like this was the most normal conversation to be having with a person.

He was thankful that she ended up dropping the subject, enjoying the silence for a few minutes before he could hear her shifting around on the couch once more. He had not even started to warm up the pan for him to melt the butter in before she was talking again. He swallowed thickly, finally turning around to face her- the edge of the counter digging into his lower back as he leaned back against it. He crossed his arms loosely against s chest, he almost wished that Bucky would come intervene for him, standing close to him so he didn't have to endure the constant questions alone. His shoulders sagged forward, at the moment he want really living up to the whole super soldier image, he looked more like a sullen child. "I got a text. Turned out to be Bucky- he just trying to protect me, Natasha." He swallowed again, his chest feeling tight, he was fully aware how quickly he had jumped the gun and decided to go with Bucky. But he doesn't regret it one bit. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now. "He asked me to come with him," his voice growing softer as he continued, wetting his lower lip and averting his eyes from the narrowed gaze coming from the couch, "I said yes."

Natasha blinked, and then scoffed softly to herself. Trust Steve to find his assassin friend who'd been lost to HYDRA, only to decide that escaping to Russia was the best bet when it came to being safe, even though they could've flown to New York and got top quality protection and safety in Stark Tower... The redhead fixed Steve with a steady, almost motherly gaze, and she was not happy at all. Steve was so young and naive sometimes, and it surprised her almost as much as it didn't. "Obviously you said yes, but did you really think about the consequences of leaving America with your long lost boyfriend? What did you think was going to happen, Steve? He'd fall in love with you and you could farm goats here for the rest of your days?" She shook her head softly, shifting to stand, and she took a slow breath, softening her expression and voice so Steve didn't get upset. "He's not capable of falling in love with you, and everyone at home needs you more than him. You have to think through your options more, Steve. This isn't the right arrangement for you." Fury would be pleased with her, if he could hear her talking right now. This was why she had been sent, to bring their Captain home. 

Steve's muscles were still tense despite the gentle tone that Natasha was coddling him with, his arms tightened against his chest when she stood up and made her way towards him. She didn't move past the threshold that separated the kitchen from the living room but he still felt a little cagey like he was being cornered. His boyfriend. Could he even call Bucky that? Felt a little unworthy for what he actually feel for him. He bit the inside of his cheek, "What about what I want?" He knew he sounded childish, some things were ,ugh bigger than him and his feelings but he was...tired. He just wanted to be Steve. He wanted it to be Steve and Bucky. He didn't want to admit to her that he had discussed with Bucky that they should just stay here and forget everything else. It cut something deep inside him when she said that Bucky wouldn't be capable of love but he chose not to comment on it, his lips down turned and eyes narrowed towards the ground. "Right arrangement, sure." He murmured under his breath.

Natasha once more clicked with her tongue, and then she sharply clicked her fingers out in front of her to get the blond's attention. God, she hated when people acted like this. Sure, she understood the want to get away, and how sometimes it seemed like it was just time to be selfish and do selfish things, but it didn't work like that. Things just simply didn't work like that. "Stop thinking like a fucking teenager, Steve," she said bluntly, and some of her demeanor had hardened again to compensate for the softness she was seeing in her friend. "You aren't going to get a fairytale ending with this guy and we both know it. So what the hell are you doing here, Steve? What is the point in you being here with him?" 

Steve couldn't help but flinch back slightly at the harsh tone, with her voice raising he was sure that Bucky will make his way out here to investigate any minute now. He swallowed back a retort and lifted his head up to look at her, his eyes still narrowed slightly, looking exhausted around the edges. The muscles in his jaw was tensing and working around words before he spoke, "I don't know what you want me to say." He croaked out pathetically, air leaving him in an exasperated breath, his arms falling from their position crossed at his chest. "I'm not leaving without him." This, he said a bit firmer, a statement. This was something that was for sure. He would go back to Stark Tower if that's what Natasha was set on making him do, but if he was going- Bucky was coming, too. It was selfish of him to assume that he would just come along, but if that was the case. Then Steve was staying. 

Natasha blinked, and for a moment she just gaped at her friend, unable to actually believe that Steve was so stubborn. However, she knew what it was like to be in love and how it felt not wanting to leave anyone behind so... She gave a nod. "And I don't expect you to. Now you just have to work on convincing him to come back to America with you," she said, and then she was stepping away from the kitchen and away from Steve, feeling as if she had made her point even if she had had to be a bit harsh about it. "Where is he anyway? Plotting his next kill on his own or...?" She looked over her shoulder to down the hallway, and she pursed her lips. She didn't trust him. He was HYDRA, he was a pet of theirs and it was obvious he wasn't free of their grip yet. She didn't know if she could trust Steve's safety around him, even if Steve seemed to think everything was okay. Natasha had reason to believe that the soldier would be a little bit bias, however..

Steve only offered a small exasperated huff at the backhanded remark, not even attempting to retort it. "He said he was going to finish cleaning up the room." He provide, although he was sure that he was up to something else entirely. He cleared his throat, convincing Bucky to come back to America? He might be able to pull that off, but it would take a lot of coaxing and discussing on both their parts before he could say for sure what they would be doing. He stepped away from the oven and wiped his sweat damp palms against the front of his jeans before turning to move out of the kitchen, the grilled cheese can wait. "I'll go check on him." He wanted to get there before Natasha decided to barge in on him. He side stepped around her with a polite smile before making his way back down the narrow hallway leading to their room in th back. He stood there a moment longer before he reached his hand up to rap his knuckles against the wood, "Bucky?"

Sitting there on the bed hadn't done any good, and wouldn't do any good either, Bucky quickly concluded. It wouldn't work fast enough for him to go out and help Steve, he could hear talking from the lounge and wanted to know what was being said by the redhead. Bucky wasn't an idiot by any means, so he knew exactly what he had to do to make it go away... He just didn't want to. No. He doubted he would actually find pleasure from it... He needed it to go away though. So with methodical precision he pulled his pants down, gave a short soft glare to his crotch before spitting on his hand and getting to it. He lay back so it would be less uncomfortable, and he was shutting his eyes and he knew it was bad that he did it, but he pretended it wasn't his own hand. It was Steve's. A soft hand that would keep him safe, the would guide him and protect him even though it was Bucky's duty to take care of Steve. He bit his lip, and he had been taught how he could be quiet, so it was easy to swallow his noises, easy to keep silent, and he was pumping himself quickly all he needed to make it go away, fucking his fist with all he needed to bring his release more quickly. It didn't take long for him to be on the edge, he hadn't touched himself for a long time, and he was just about to come when he heard the noise from the other side of the door as he fell, unable to help a stuttered yell of, "St-steve!" from falling loudly off his tongue, spurting up onto his hand and shirt with a fair bit of pressure behind it, making him arch just slightly as the pressure was released through him.

Steve could feel his ears begin to burn from the muffled shout from on the other side of the door. He swallowed thickly before knocking again softly before slowly opening the door, expecting what he was going to see on the other side but still being thrown off kilter. "Bucky-" the air left him in a rush, pushing hard out of his lungs. Bucky was sprawled out on his back with his pants worked down mid thigh, his shirt pushed up over his stomach. He looked beautiful, aside from the scarring and gained muscle definition, he had always been thicker than Steve but now it showed, and the curve of his flaccid penis resting against his belly- it too Steve's breath away. He quickly shut the door behind him and locked it easily, so Natasha wouldn't be able to just easily barge in if they were gone too long. He shifted his weight anxiously, his skin flushed and working its way down the collar of his shirt, "L...let me get you a clean shirt." He fumbled over his words, he needed something to occupy himself with befor he found himself kneeling on the bed and licking the smeared come off of the palm of Bucky's hand like an offering. He made quick work of grabbing one of Bucky's shirts from their clothes mixed in the closet before turning back and moving closer to the bed, almost hesitantly. "Do....do you feel better?" He said carefully, he didn't want to make Bucky think that what he just did was something he had to be ashamed of. "If you ever just need to take care of things, just tell me to leave the room," he tried to laugh it off, but it came out forced and embarrassed.

Bucky had his metal arm over his face when he heard the door open, hiding his eyes and his flush, and he wanted to tuck himself away and perhaps curl up under the covers so his body wasn't so exposed and open. His release was already cooling on his skin, and as Steve said he was going to get him a new shirt he had no qualms with tugging off the one he had now to wipe himself up, his hand and his stomach and now sensitive cock. He bunched it up in his hand, and with Steve finally turned away from him he pulled his pants up and stood, still flushed from slight embarrassment, and from the activity he had just participated in. He swallowed and took the shirt from Steve, not sure what he was supposed to say in response to Steve's obvious discomfort. So he paused, pulled the clean shirt on and put the dirty shirt in a hamper in the corner of the room without saying anything. When he finally did, he wasn't facing Steve fully. He could tell that Steve was trying to be supportive, trying to make sure that he didn't feel any self loathing, but unfortunately it didn't work like that. He felt like he'd misbehaved because he'd done something so obvious to get pleasure for himself. He swallowed and looked to the window, not wanting to dwell on this subject. "Do you still need help making lunch?" He asked softly, eyes half trained on the ground, and certainly not on Steve. 

"Better question is, do you need any help?" He asked softly, taking a step closer to Bucky and placing a hand on his shoulder to turn him towards him. He pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek before taking a step back so he could have a little space to breathe. "Do you feel better?" He offered a small smile, his cheeks still a little flushed from seeing Bucky exposed like that despite already knowing what was there. His features were pinched and eyes averted refusing to look Steve in the eye, "Bucky, baby." He tried to coax him into looking at him, reaching both his hands up to cup his face and tilt his head up. "If you want me to drop it, I will. We can go out there and make lunch and forget this." He pressed another soft kiss against his forehead, "But I'm not going to let you feel terrible for what you did."

Bucky's stomach flipped a little bit when Steve kissed him, unable to think back to a time when sexual things were pleasant... for a long time anything to do with his sexuality hadn't had anything to with what he wanted or needed. It hadn't been his own choice. Why would that mindset have disappeared in such a short time. He did manage to relax a little bit when Steve made him look up, and he managed to meet Steve's gaze even though it wasn't the most confident of gestures, his stomach still unsure, whole posture submissive with his shoulders curled in a little bit. The pet name did have him fight the smallest of a smile. Baby, that was a nice name when it came from Steve's lips. "It won't need to happen again, I think," Bucky said softly once more. If he had more control over himself then it would be okay and he wouldn't have to worry. "Please drop it," he said, looking through his lashes and wondering if Steve would listen to him now that he was asking. He wouldn't get punished for acting like he was, would he?

"Consider it dropped." He said softly and nodded, smoothing Bucky's hair down and offering a small smile.he wasn't going to keep pushing this and if Bucky wasn't comfortable with talking about it, then he wouldn't force him to. If it did happen again, it'd be okay. He swallowed and removed his hands- there would be bigger things to talk about later when they were all settled anyway. If Natasha was set on him coming back home, then this would have to be something he'd have to discuss with Bucky in private without her trying to over talk Steve just to get her point across; even if she was coming from a caring place. But before that, he still needed to make sur Bucky was Kay to go back out there. "Are you okay to be around Natasha?"

Bucky relaxed almost back to his normal state the moment Steve agreed to leave it, and he turned the final bit so he could settled his metal hand on Steve's hip just carefully. He wanted to wash his hands before eating or before he helped making food, just so he didn't feel as dirty, and he managed now a soft smile when Steve asked about the redhead. He supposed he would be able to handle her, since it seemed her main objective was to keep Steve safe. That was his own objective, so he was pleased that they had a common ground. "First... Thank you," he said softly, looking at Steve's eyes of his own volition before looking to the door. "Second... I think I can handle her. She... isn't as much of a threat to you as I first thought she was." Steve had gone out there with her on his own while Bucky had been in the bedroom, too, and he came back okay. That was a good start. "Will she be okay to be around me?" He then asked, wondering if she disliked him as much as he wanted to dislike her.

Steve leaned into the pressure against his hip, a small smile curving up the corners of his mouth. "You don't need to thank me, Buck." He said this genuinely, his expression earnest as he reached his hands up to rest on his shoulders, "Natasha is a really good person, with the best intents in heart-" he trailed off slightly, feeling like he may be sugar coating it a little much, "She can just come off really strong. So dont take anything harsh she says to heart." He finished with a nod of his head, giving Buckys shoulders a firm squezze. He leaned forward a little to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, because they both deserved one, before releasing his shoulders. "I don't know about you, but I've worked up an appetitie. " A short huff of a laugh escaped him.

The kiss was what made it. Sure, the words had him feeling like he was about to melt into the palm of Steve's hand, and the tip about dealing with the redhead was earnest and he made sure to take a note of it... But the slight kiss had him unknowingly turning his face for more even though Steve had pulled back and there was no way that was going to happen again without proper follow through. Instead, Bucky just nodded, wiping his hands down the front of his pants and darting to open the bedroom door for the blond. "I'll wash my hands and then come help you in the kitchen," he promised, looking a lot more lively as he smiled at Steve and gestured down the hallway to where they were headed. "We don't want anything to burn down, that would be tragic." Was he managing to try and joke? Was that what this was? He wasn't sure but it felt good, a bubble of happiness in his chest. He would have to try it more.

Steve noticed how Bucky leaned in again for another kiss before stopping and distracting himself by wiping his palms against the front of his thighs and side stepping around him to open the bedroom door. He smiled to himself when he held the door open, giving a small huff at the jab. "I can cook fine, Buck." He hid his smile as he came up to him, reaching his hands up to cups his face. "But maybe you can help me out with this?" He felt a little silly at the attempt of making a pass at him, a crooked grin forming as he leaned in to press his lips flush against Bucky's. He rubbed his thumbs against his cheek bones and pulled away enough to nip at his lower lip and and kissing the reddened skin and leaning back. A laugh bubbled up his chest at the struck look crossing Bucky's features, "Go wash your hands and I'll go make sure everything's ready in the kitchen." He pressed one last chaste kiss against his cheek before releasing his face completely and turning on his heel so he could stop himself for pushing Bucky back in the room. 

The kiss was perfect, Bucky immediately concluded as Steve did that, and he stood with his eyes shut to let Steve do whatever he wanted to with the kiss, and when it was over Steve was looking very pleased and Bucky had a half dopey smile on his face, a little bit dazed from such direct contact that didn't frighten him. He heard the order though and nodded, waiting until Steve had walked past him before nodding to himself and seeming quite pleased. If he just... let himself enjoy what he and Steve had together it would be a lot easier to think and function without worrying, or making Steve worry. He slipped into the bathroom to do as he was asked, and when he met his reflections gaze, he noticed that his grey eyes were rather more alive than he had seen them in a long time. Was... Steve making him more human? He couldn't be sure... What he was feeling though, he liked it rather a lot. He could get used to feeling, he had concluded.

He knew there was a little more color to his cheeks and a hop to his step when Natasha fixed him with a skeptical look from her perch back on the couch. He reeled it back a little with a sheepish smile and averted his eyes, crossing into the kitchen and beginning to pull out the rest of things they'd need for lunch. He pulled out two cucumbers that he would peel and slice to have on the side but aside from that he was just going to make grilled cheeses. "Are you sure you don't want anything?" He asked once more over his shoulder, he wasn't even sure if Bucky was going to eat and he didn't want to be the only one to be. He wet his lower lip, tasting a slight tang on his skin that could only be described as Bucky. He smiled once more to himself as he heard the light footsteps of him making his way down the hallway from the bathroom, the steps almost sounded hesitant as the drew closer. He shot one more look over his shoulder to Natasha, a warning look that didn't have much heat behind it. He just wanted her to tone it down a little with overwhelming Bucky with questions. Mouthing the words be nice before turning his back towards her again. 

"Well, since you keep insisting," Natasha settled on, not sure if she should be happy with Steve's peppiness or worried about it. It was obvious that the blond was in love with the soldier, but... She wasn't sure if this kind of relationship could ever be considered healthy. She had found another book though, and was curling up on the couch after poking the fire a couple of times to keep it crackling. Bucky had washed his hands and was carefully making his way to the lounge. Steve was in the kitchen so he was making a beeline to him, barely looking at the redhead, and she didn't change her focus from the novel, thank god, so he didn't have to worry about it. He came up behind Steve almost like a ghost and leaned against the bench beside him, not saying anything but bringing the slight scent of lavender hand wash with him. He would've been a lot more calm if this domestic little scene included only them, like this morning.... But he could deal with this. This wasn't too bad, he concluded.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this one! Thank you so much for reading and sticking with if you've been here this entire time, or thank you for just joining if somehow I've popped up back on the archive thread :P Take care!!!

He was silently thankful when Natasha didn't say anything to Bucky as he walked into the kitchen and took his place behind Steve, leaning back against the counter. He patted his hands dry on the rag hanging from the handle of the oven before turning towards him, he looked so much more at ease leaning back, his shoulders sagged and eyes looking less dilated and more relaxed. "Hey." He said softly with a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He wanted to sneak one more quick kiss in but he knew Natasha would probably have something to say about that. He settled with reaching a hand out to give one of his water-damp ones a squeeze, "Do you mind getting the cucumbers peeled?" He asked, letting his hand go after one more squeeze and gesturing over to the cutting board and peeler he had set out on one of the counters beside the oven. "Do you want me to make you anything?" He wasn't sure if Bucky had much of an appetite, but he at least wanted to offer if he was going to make something for Natasha, also.

Bucky smiled brightly when Steve looked at him, immediately feeling lighter the moment Steve spoke to him and settled him with a steady sea blue gaze. "Hello," he replied softly back, straightening up just a little bit out of respect for the blond. Natasha was watching them out of the corner of her eye and Bucky could feel that, but he didn't mind at all. He was confident that they were doing nothing wrong. So he squeezed Steve's hand when his own was taken hold of, and when he was given his politely worded order he didn't even think it through when he said, "Yes sir," and a quick, "No thank you, sir," at the offer of having something as well. He would eat one meal a day to keep Steve's mind at ease, but too much food made him lethargic-- as he'd been told-- and he wanted to be at optimum working capacity. For Steve. With no more words, he went over to the fridge and started looking through the abundance of vegetables he'd bought to find the cucumbers. He missed the look Natasha was giving Steve around his back, eyebrows raised in an assuming curiosity, not sure what she was to make of what she'd just heard, but it was a rather interesting development in a rather thick plot...

He would talk to him later about the "Sir" thing later when they had some more time alone, but right now he was over the moon with the smile that Bucky had leveled him with, lighting a fire in his belly and circulating the warmth through his chest. "Thank you," he said, his own smile playing at the corners of his lips. He attempted to over look the gaze Natasha was leveling him with. He focused one turning on the front burner on the oven, setting the skillet on top before reaching over to grab the pad of butter and wait for the pan to heat up enough for him to place some in to melt. With Bucky close beside him, beginning to peel the cucumbers after giving them a quick rinse in the sink, Steve bumped his hip lightly with his own. With Natasha now focusing her attention back on the book and the sound of the wood shifting and crackling in the fireplace. The silence surrounding them was comfortable, glancing over and seeing that Bucky was finished chopping the cucumbers into equal half-inch slices, Steve got to work on melting the butter and swirling it enough to coat the surface before he reached out to grab the bread.

Bucky wasn't actually sure why Steve wanted cucumber if he was supposed to be making grilled cheese, because he wasn't exactly stupid and could kind of work out what a grilled cheese was, so he was kind of confused, but otherwise content to make thin slices of the vegetable once he got started. It wasn't a hard ask, and he enjoyed making sure that Steve would get what he wanted, so when he was done he had no qualms with bumping Steve on the hip right back, smiling broadly at him and nodding to the pile of slices he had created. Then, like his mouth wasn't working of it's own volition or something, he said, "Why do we need cucumber for grilled cheese? Is there hidden cucumber in it?" He asked, leaning against the bench once more and sounding genuinely intrigued. He didn't hear the slight scoff from Natasha, just under her breath, because what an innocent and stupid question, coming from a cold hearted killer. How... adorable.

He was finally getting the sandwiches out of the skillet and onto a plate next to the oven to cool for a few minutes. Turning off the burner he turned to look at Bucky, taking in the furrowed look and the way his body language was more relaxed and natural as he leaned back against the counter. "A little salt and pepper, they're great with anything to eat and cut the grease of the grilled cheese." Also he figured they wouldn't have potato chips so he'd eat the cucumber slices instead for a crunch. He side stepped around Bucky so he could rinse his hands in the sink and drying them on the hand towel hanging on the handle of the cabinet below the sink. He turned enough to face Bucky befor pressing a kiss against his cheek, "If you do gtt hungry, let me know and I'll make you something." He said softly, another kiss against his temple before he set to work to getting the plates set up so he could carry one out over to Natasha. 

Bucky hadn't known that, but he listened with wide eyes and absorbed the information as well as he could. Nodding, he looked at the cucumber, and after a long moment of internal debate-- Steve had just kissed him, told him if he got hungry he could get made something, and he reached out with one hand to take a slice of the cucumber, biting into it carefully and feeling the crunch and the sweetness of the vegetable. He nodded to himself and took two more pieces to simply nibble on while Steve ate his lunch. He was looking at the grilled cheese with a perplexed expression, wondering what that tasted like. He hadn't had the opportunity to try very many things, and while his body wasn't craving any food, he was still wondering. He had the cucumber in his mouth, jut chewing on it carefully, and he looked at Steve's plate, blinking slowly. 

After delivering the plate over to Natasha, he settled himself at the kitchen counter as he leaned forward against it. He tucked into his grilled cheese, glancing up every so often to see that Bucky was watching him from the othe sid of the counter, his his flicking from the sandwich in his hands and his mouth as he chewed, feeling a little self conscious, he swallowed. "You okay?" He asked after a moment, not really getting an immediate response. He glanced down at his plat before continuing, "Are you sure you don't want a bite?" The corner of his lips curved a littl as he spoke, Bucky's eyes darting up to meet his with a furrowed look. He didn't say anymore as he held the grilled cheese up like an offering. "Come here." No real heat behind his words, he was free to decline if he really wanted, he kept his expression soft, the smile growing slightly.   
Bucky blinked a little bit to come back to himself when he was suddenly addressed, and automatically he took a couple of steps towards the blond, still nibbling on his cucumber and looking at Steve like he wasn't sure what was expected of him. "Do you like it?" He asked, eyes flicking between meeting with Steve's and glancing down at his sandwich. It did look rather nice, and he had heard Natasha hum when she had bit into her own. Maybe he should have had one, if they were so nice, but Steve had already finished his cooking and he didn't want to impose or demand. 

Steve hummed as he took one morn it'd of the sandwich before offering he rest to Bucky, more than half, with a small smile. "Here, you can go ahead and finish that off." He didn't have much of an appetite as he thought he had but as he crunched down on a slice of cucumber, he couldn't help but rest one hand in his palm and watch Bucky as he took a hesitant bite from the corner. A grin spread across his lips at the surprised look forming on his face, "What do you think?" It was nothing special, but he did take satisfaction out of the small things that made Bucky smile or show any expression that was showing emotion. Quietly watching him from across the counter made it even more obvious to him that he wouldn't be able to leave without him. He had to talk to him about going back with him and if that wasn't a chance then...he'd stay here. He'd stay here and nobody else would have a word on it edgewise. 

Bucky felt so grateful when Steve offered his sandwich to him, and he would've tried to decline had he not been wanting to try some the whole time watching Steve before, and then the fact that Steve looked very hopeful about it all just made him not want to say no even more. So he took a careful bite, and his eyes went wide at the taste and texture of it all. He didn't know what he had been expecting but this was inherently surprising, and as he chewed he had to stop himself breaking into a big smile. There was something about the cheese, and the way it melted on his tongue as well as the grease smearing his lips... He liked it already a lot more than he had liked the eggs, but he didn't say that out loud. No, instead he said, "This is amazing," taking a second bite and meeting Steve's adoring gaze with a steady look of his own, and he nodded, biting the cucumber when he hadn't finished his cheese mouthful and looking surprised again. How wonderful was food? He couldn't even comprehend it.

Steve could feel his chest begin to swell with warmth and tighten, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying too much. To begin fumbling over his words was something that would give Natasha a reason to pity the situation he was in even more. He was in too deep at this point, completely head over heels and feeling like a sap for wanting to profuse his feelings out loud over watching Bucky just getting his fill in food. Instead he swallowed, "If you want anymore, just let me know." His voice cracked lightly, clearing his throat before finishing off the last few slices of cucumber on his plate. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his sleeve before shifting his weight and taking a step back from the counter- he had to look away from him before he said too much. He occupied himself with grabbing a bottle of water for Bucky and himself from the fridge after putting the dishes in the sink, he stepped up behind him to rub his palm against the back of his head before stepping away. "Someone was hungry," he teased softly, a smile still present in his tone.

Bucky was unsure what to make of Steve's expression and color in his cheeks, but he smiled back at him like he hadn't noticed anything was wrong because Steve would say something if he needed to, right? He wouldn't keep it all locked up inside himself because that made Bucky confused and Steve took care of Bucky better than anyone ever had. He didn't want any more and he took the bottle from Steve gratefully, looking very content as he cracked the seal and took a few gulps. He was watching Steve pretty intently, smiling as he was touched rather tenderly and he hummed. "I don't feel hunger, Steve," he murmured, turning around to properly face the blond. "And I ate on the plane, and the eggs... I won't need food for a while." He rolled his eyes like it was an obvious fact, and kicked his foot out playfully to catch Steve's shin. "I hope you weren't hungry, I ate a lot of what you made for yourself..."

"Right, right." He huffed a breath out but couldn't keep the grin from curving at the corners of his lips despite that that would be something they'd have to work on. These things took time and he couldn't expect them to be fixed with a grilled cheese and twenty-four hours. He smoothed his hand up his back once more as he took a swig from his own water bottle before placing it onto the counter. "Don't worry, I wasn't took hungry." He had lost a bit of his appetite throughout the morning but he was satisfied with what he did get down before handing over the rest to Bucky. He could almost feel Natasha's gaze burning into the back of his neck as he rubbed at his back with broad swiped of his palm, watching his every movement and listening to the quiet words they exchanged. 

Bucky was immediately relaxing at Steve's soothing touch, and he hummed a little bit, shifting down just a tad to have his head on Steve's shoulder. He knew he was being watched, but he didn't exactly care because Steve was his priority and he would do anything for him. It was even better to hear that the blond hadn't been hungry, and he felt his right arm reaching out to slide around Steve and hold him a little closer. He was trailing his fingers up and down Steve's waist easily, and watching out into the fields outside the window while they just stood next to each other. It was nice, he really liked it, and before he could even think about the repercussions of what he was saying, they were falling off his lips. "I want to stay here and grow vegetables with you..."

His back curved slightly when he felt Buckys right arm slide and wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to his side and resting his head against his shoulder. It was one of the rare times that he had actually chose to be affectionate and get closer on his own. He bit down against the meat of his inner cheek, his own arm wrapping around his shoulder, fingers curling against the fabric of his sweater as he felt Bucky's fingers rubbing idle patterns into his hip bone. It was a comforting just to watch out the window above the sink, feeling warmth bone deep spreading inside him. His fingers tightened when he heard the inhale of breath before Bucky began to speak, preparing himself for what he was about to say to- Natasha sure to be listening closer for his next words. His chest tightened listening to that rasp, "Bucky-" he started, not sure how to respond. He felt like he was being yanked into two different directions and whichever he would chose would have the opposite side fighting back. He swallowed thickly before speaking again, "I want to stay here, too." He said softly- because he did want. He wanted more than anything just to stay here where Bucky was most comfortable, but in the end he could feel Natasha's narrowed gaze on his back. 

Bucky gave a simple nod. Well, then, it was settled. He and Steve would never leave Russia and he would be happy learning everything about being normal again from Steve right here in his home. He hummed a little bit and leaned even more into Steve's side, content as he let out a little sigh. Yes, this was a perfect arrangement, and he was very happy with it. He didn't understand though why he heard a small clearing of Natasha's voice behind him, and he was unsure as to why he felt Steve tense because of it. He turned a little bit and looked Steve's profile up and down quickly, brow tugging down just a little bit. "Russia is really good for growing vegetables for half the year, and then we grow enough over that time we preserve them and have them over winter," he said brightly, wanting to make Steve forget about the woman behind them who was obviously surveying them to make Steve uncomfortable or something. God, he would have a stern word with her later about Steve's importance, if she didn't let up soon.

Steve's chest tightened as he was pressed tighter to Bucky's side, turning his head to press against his hair, eyes sliding shut as he pressed a kiss against his temple. "Maybe we can could get a few animals. Even a dog." He swallowed thickly, his voice wavering. He squeezed tighter before he turned so that his chest was pressed flush against his side, wrapping his other arm around his shoulders to hug him close. At this point he didn't care if Natasha was watching them, that was the last thing on his mind at the moment. "We-" he turned his head in and pressed his face into the space of his shoulder, burying his head there, "We need to talk. Bucky." He needed to ask him if there was ever a possibility that Bucky would come back with him to America, he needed to put that on the table and actually talk about it. He couldn't get the words out, shoulders tensing up, keeping his face hidden and eyes clenched shut.

Bucky was immediately worried, however, because nothing about Steve's body language indicated that he wasn't happy about any talking that could happen, or that he was excited about maybe owning an animal. Bucky wasn't sure he would be able to own an animal, he could barely take care of himself. He slid his metal arm around Steve's other side though, and he squeezed him slightly, to properly reassure him that they were okay how they were. "Okay," he said softly, turning himself now so they were facing each other, and Bucky couldn't help but feel like this wasn't something he was going to look forward to. It had an ominous feeling about the topic, even though he didn't know what the topic was.

He was arranged and shifted so that their chests were pressed flush together, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He had to get it out in the open now, swallowing down the lump of anxiety forming in his throat. "Would you do something for me?" He said softly, rubbing his face against his shoulder as his voice was slightly muffled by the fabric of his sweater. "Would you come back to America with me if I had to go back?" He voice sounded hoarse as he spoke, his fingers curling tighter in the fabric. "You don't have to, but I don't think I'd be able to leave you behind, Buck. Not again, I couldn't." The muscles in his back tensed up in the anticipation of waiting for an answer. 

Bucky made a small noise when Steve pressed close, but he quickly tapered off, looking unsure at Steve's first sentence, and then even more so when the main topic was finally brought up. He didn't understand where it was coming from, and a part of him was immediately agreeing to it, because Steve obviously wanted this, and Steve was priority, but... No. He didn't understand. Had the redhead forced his decision when he had been alone in the room? No... Steve was too genuine in his emotion for this to be an order... So Bucky was pulling back to look at the other, confused, and his expression was a little hurt. America wasn't safe, not for Steve.. But Russia wasn't safe either, those soldiers were enough evidence of that... "Do you not want to stay here?" He asked carefully, expression now struggling to become guarded so his emotion wasn't so obvious, but since Steve had broken down those walls, it was difficult. "You just said you wanted to stay..."

He was being pushed and held at a distance by his waist, his eyes looking tired and expression almost heart broken. "I'll go anywhere you are, Bucky." He said, voice earnest. "Be it here or in America, but either way I can't leave you." His voice cracked slightly, shoulders sagging as if it was too much energy to just keep them up. "I can't leave you behind again, I won't." He could feel Natasha looking at them now, watching their every move and hanging onto each word that left his lips. He attempted to smile, his expression watery as his lower lip trembled. It wasn't suppose to be like this, he wasn't suppose to be crumbling apart in front of everyone. How he was acting now wasn't someone that people would believe in to keep them safe but right now Steve didn't care. He's waited too long and lost too much to put on a strong face just for the benefit of others. "If you tell me to stay, I'll stay." His brows furrowed, pale eyes locked with Bucky's. 

Bucky couldn't tell Steve to do anything, not really, unless it was imperative for his safety or something. Bucky was using his hold on the blond to try and calm him, pressing his thumbs and rubbing them around where he was touching to try and soothe the blond from whatever brink he'd set himself up to be beside. "Why do we need to go back to America?" He asked, honestly wanting to know why that was suddenly an option. "Do you want to go back?" He stepped back in half a step now, wanting to keep Steve from looking upset like he did in that moment. He supposed Steve being adament not to leave him flattered him so, because he didn't want to leave Steve either, no way...

Steve leaned into the touch, soaking in the deep presses of Bucky's thumbs rubbing into his shoulder bones. "I still work under SHIELD, there'd be no way they'd let me out that easily." He left out the part that Natasha was drilling into him- it'd be too selfish of him to want to get away from it all. He took a step forward, wanting to shorten the growing space between them. "I want to be wherever you are." Averting his eyes and swallowing back the growing lump forming in his throat, his face felt hot like he was about to cry. He couldn't do that now, he already looked a mess enough as it was. 

Steve was saying that like it wasn't entirely reciprocated, and Bucky's frown deepened. Had he not shown his loyalty enough for it to count? He took a breath, movements faltering, and he was trying to be firm but with Steve so close to breaking down he couldn't help but feel like he needed to be as emotional about it as the blond was being. "When do you leave?" He asked, as firmly as he could, grey eyes turbulent with the emotions he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to feel...

Steve took in the frown that deepened on Bucky's features before he slowly moved his hands away from his shoulders, letting his arms drop and hang heavy at his sides. "Probably within the next twenty-four hours." He didn't even want to to look over at Natasha to confirm this. His voice hoarse as he spoke, he took a step back, the movement cause Bucky to release his own grip and shift. "I'm sorry." His throat felt raw, chest burning and tightening with each breath he took. How Bucky had asked was all he needed to know his answer- When are /you/ leaving. He could understand why he would not want to come along, and if that was what he really wanted, he'd respect that and wouldn't push him. 

He wasn't going to leave Steve's side, and... In America he had all his team to protect him, he supposed. Home was home, even if there was more opportunity for Steve to get shot and things... So Bucky looked over his shoulder to the redhead, and she was staring at him rather intently. He quirked an eyebrow, Steve wasn't looking at him, his eyes were on the ground and he looked so upset... The slight inclination of the woman's head was answer enough. Bucky looked back to Steve and reached out with his flesh hand, tilting Steve's chin up with his finger so they could meet each other's gaze. "I suppose unpacking all our things was a bit pointless then, wasn't it," he asked, licking his lower lip. No, after everything Steve had taught him, and brought to light... He was never going to leave his side. "Do we start packing now or later?"

His muscles stiffend, his head being directed up by a finger unde his chin, "Bucky." He croaked, his chest already swelling and his eyes getting wet from held in emotions becoming too much. "Really? Really, you'll come?" He was almost babbling now, stepping forward and cupping Bucky's face between his hands, a trembling smile forming across his lips. His heart was beginning to thud heavily against his ribs, he felt a little nauseous and a little light headed mom moving too quickly. He couldn't help himself though before he started pressing quick kisses against his mouth and and cheeks, he brushed off the cough that he heard from the couch, not even bothering with the squeeze of embarrassment in his stomach. "Right now-" another kiss, "Or when you're ready?" One more kiss to his brow. Their foreheads bummed together lightly, rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the thin skin under his eyes,.

Bucky stood rather simply as he was lovingly assaulted by Steve's kisses, letting his silence answer for him as well as settling both hands on Steve's hips for more points of contact. He had to screw up his face a fair bit, just out of instinct, but his heart was fluttering in his chest and the constant little 'mwah' noises Steve made were loud enough that he wouldn't be able to hear Natasha. He waited until Steve was just stood in front of him, breathing quickly, and his smile grew carefully, until he was grinning more genuinely than ever he had in all his life-- or as long as he could remember, anyway. He was supposed to make a decision, again, and Steve looked so excited, maybe this decision thing wouldn't be too bad to work on, and he chuckled just softly, pulling Steve to him to press a proper, soft kiss on the blond's lips. "I think we should do it right now, so we can get back as soon as we can but... Do you want to stay here with me for just a little while longer? A night, perhaps?" He asked, sounding a little bit unsure but mostly confident.

Steve melted into the kiss, sigh escaping through his nose as his shoulders sagged forward. The ache seeping bone deep was slowly being alleviated and tension in his muscles began to relax the more he pressed into the kiss. They pulled apart slowly, a soft laugh bubbling in his chest, "One more night couldn't hurt." His eyes were half lidded, he couldn't bite back the dopey grin that was spreading across his lips. He could hear Natasha snicker behind him, his ears turning a little red with heat at the reminder of a small audience they had. He was so tightly wrapped around Bucky's finger at this point he'd do anything. Though the fleeting promises of staying here and making a life for themselves, growing vegetables and growing old- it still hurt. But laying back and letting things pass in front of them had never really been their style to begin with. Who knows? Maybe they would be back here in the future, they could always come here to take some time off away from everyone when things got a little too heavy. They would always have this little cottage in the woods.


End file.
